


Dowoon's Body [Discontinued]

by yalina (rqyh)



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: #Day4, #briwoonweek20, Also head’s up there’s a lot of gore in here, And I mean lots of deaths, And this is the most hardcore you’ll ever see me get for a fic, Biting, Bloodplay, But theyre both each other at the same time, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Deaths, Demons and Satanic Rituals, Dom/sub, Domestic, Dowoon is mostly Jennifer, Everyone is at legal age, Explicit Smut, F/F, F/M, Funnily enough this is for briwooonweek, Giant theme of religion and morality, Heartwarming, I know, I mean for me I think it’s pretty nasty, Jennifer’s body - Freeform, Kinky sex, Lots of OC Side Characters - Freeform, M/M, Murder Investigations, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Overcoming Inner Demons, Romance as romance should be, The specific tags will be put in the Beginning Chapter Notes, There are triggering themes so please be warned, They’re only there so I don’t kill off real people, Those are all you need to get a head’s up for this fic, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, True Love, Vore, You’ll get it when you read it, also:, and Younghyun is mostly Needy, but also:, heart-wrenching angst, positive character development, sexual awakening, trust me i know, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:22:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 40,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25085350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rqyh/pseuds/yalina
Summary: “I’m not afraid of you.”He laughs.“You should be.”Younghyun Kang is a senior student living in the small remote town of Willowsbury. After getting duped by a band named Demon Lullabies, his best friend—Dowoon Yoon—gets kidnapped and stays missing for three whole days.Unable to contact him, Younghyun enters school with news of another student found dead in Highway Forest. It is then that Dowoon makes his shocking return—complete with a whole new look.Younghyun starts to think that things have finally turned back to normal. But with a group of students investigating the recent death, and his best friend acting like a completely different person, Younghyun realizes that his problems are far from over.
Relationships: Kang Younghyun | Young K/Yoon Dowoon, Past Relationship(s) - Relationship
Comments: 33
Kudos: 53
Collections: Briwoon Week 2020





	1. Divine Intervention

**Author's Note:**

> **As of 12/22/2020, this story has been discontinued. Original pseud was raikaya (rqyh).**
> 
> Hello, everyone! So, this is the AU I've been hinting on my twitters ([@raikayyylmao](https://twitter.com/raikayyylmao) [@itskireiii](https://twitter.com/itskireiii)) about, which is a Jennifer's Body AU! A movie I haven't actually watched yet!
> 
> Despite that, though, from the various clips I've seen (because I can't afford to watch the actual, real movie orz), I was inspired to write this AU, and I'm telling you, it's a wild ride :0
> 
> I have to warn you, though, that this is a story with REALLY heavy topics like religion, morality, sexuality, and trauma. So, by scrolling down, y'all are giving y'all's consent to reading it :0 (I have to put this here because i dont want someone mean to slide into my DMs TT TT)
> 
> The reason why I'm writing this is half because I really like Jennifer's Body, and half because these are topics that are also in my mind and that I sort wanna talk about through a story. Thank note that the different views that are presented here are not ALL my own, and that they are there to make YOU, the readers, think and ponder on your own. They are NOT here to convince you of something, but to make YOU think for yourself what YOU believe in. 
> 
> I've always said that I have four goals in writing: to make people Think, to make people Learn, to make people Reflect, and to make people Laugh. If just one of those goals I was able to achieve, then that's my definition of success. 
> 
> Additionally, I've already posted the first arc of this story, which right now is at six chapters. If I'm able (IF, okay!! I've been so slow in writing lately orz), I hope to upload the complete rest, or at least the second arc during briwoonweek, day 4 ~supernatural~ If you don't know what briwoonweek is, I suggest you go to [@briwoonweek](https://twitter.com/briwoonweek) on Twitter. 
> 
> Thank you for reading this Super Long Beginning Note of mine, and have fun reading!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _A bad night at a bar leads to Younghyun’s best friend gone missing._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Kidnapping, Intentionally Getting Someone Drunk, Nuances of Possible Rape, Absence of Self-Care

Willowsbury Creek is a small town located in the mountains, far off from the mainstream. With a limited population leading to a close-knit neighborhood, nothing much usually happens. If something does, it’s usually the mayor throwing himself a birthday party or that crazy old lady screaming about chickens again. Anything you would find in the big cities Willowsbury has none of it: just the local bars, a few no-name high schools, that one group of rich kids who are the only ones who could afford to keep up with the trends. Most of the kids at Willowsbury study just to get out of it, hoping that college would be their escape. 

Younghyun is one of those kids—and his best friend Dowoon is one of them, too.

Unfortunately, Dowoon has been missing for three days.

It all started last Friday, with the news of an indie band named Demon Lullabies coming over to Willowsbury to perform at The Last Supper, one of the local bars that adults and fake-adults frequently go to chill and wind out. Having an outside band perform there was a big thing—especially when you consider that Willowsbury didn’t even have a movie theater or a fast food restaurant. It gave Younghyun all the more reason to invite Dowoon to go—even though he knew he would most likely refuse.

You see, Dowoon was the type of kid who absolutely hated going anywhere outside of school and outside of his home, _especially_ if it involved being in a giant crowd. You would usually find him in the school library doing some light reading or at home doing his homework. If he felt a little dangerous, he would sit inside Younghyun’s car and let him drive them around the neighborhood. But most of the time, he’d just be watching a sci-movie or reading a comic book about superheroes, making a conscious effort to not stand out among people. He would always wear hoodies and baggy jeans, hoping they would hide him and make him unseen to everyone. Everyone except Younghyun, of course—but even he wouldn’t be enough to convince him to go to a bar.

So you could imagine Younghyun’s surprise when he knocked on Dowoon’s door that night to invite him to The Last Supper and found Dowoon agreeing before he could even finish the ques—

“Sure, why not?” he said, passing Younghyun by from where he stood on the steps and getting his keys from his pocket to lock the door. “Since you’re _sooo_ big on that band, or whatever.”

“Wait, you're actually not going to fight with me on this?” Younghyun asked, a little surprised, blinking at where Dowoon was double-checking the door if it was locked securely. “No long-ass arguments as to why you shouldn’t go?”

“You’re the one who’s been asking me every Friday to go to your stupid bar.” Dowoon suddenly turned to glare at him, looking sour. “And now you’re asking me to _not_ want to go?”

“That’s not what I meant. I’m just making sure you’re not feeling forced.” Younghyun draped an arm around Dowoon’s shoulder as he walked down the steps. “You’ve been in a bad mood since this afternoon. I just thought that Demon Lullabies could help you unwind for a bit.”

“Psh, Demon Lullabies—the band that no one’s heard of.” Dowoon rolled his eyes. “You know, the way I see it, they probably just went here _knowing_ that they’d immediately get a crowd, since we don’t really get enough bands visiting to produce a standard.”

“God, you’re such a bitter gourd.” Younghyun ruffled Dowoon’s hair and rubbed his arms the way he knew would make Dowoon ease a bit. “Look, if it’ll help you remove your bad mood, we can watch all your favorite movies tomorrow—or even tonight, if you’re still not sleepy. You could talk about all your super-powered men and cat-women and bats that are also somehow people. We’ll do it all after we watch their performance. Alright?”

Dowoon didn’t speak for a while, looking like he was considering it.

He glanced at him. “Will you make popcorn and nachos?”

“And your _favorite_ sauce.” Younghyun assured him with a nod.

A ghost of a smile appeared on Dowoon’s face, and he started walking just a fraction cheerier.

“Where’s The Last Supper?” he asked.

Younghyun smiled. 

“Just this way.”

They arrived at the bar with a crowd already brimming inside, the stage that used to only contain the mayor giving speeches about how another year passed since his last birthday now containing a few instruments and a couple guys setting them up. There were a total of four twenty-something dudes, and one of them kept winking at the crowd.

“God, this is why I keep refusing to go here,” Dowoon said, hiding in himself as he tried to avoid being touched by other people, a hand on Younghyun’s elbow.

“Don’t worry. Once we get to the front, you won’t worry too much about that.”

Younghyun led him right in front of the stage and kept that arm draped around his shoulder protectively, making sure he was comfortable. The sound of a mic made the crowd hush to a silence, and everyone turned to that winking guy addressing the crowd.

“Hell _ooo_ , Willowsbury,” he said, an electric guitar strapped around his shoulder. “We’re Demon Lullabies, and this is our very first concert.”

“A concert, they say.” Dowoon leaned towards Younghyun. Younghyun snorted.

“I don’t wanna waste your time with all these unnecessary introductions, so I’ll just let our music do the introduction itself.”

He turned to look at the drummer behind him, and they started with a one, a two, a one-two-three—

A burst of guitar chords paired with a powerful drum suddenly entered the bar, and everyone was blown away with the melody Demon Lullabies made. That guy who greeted them was now singing with a pleasantly hoarse voice, and everyone was buzzing and gushing around, pleasantly surprised at how amazing they are. 

“Woah,” Younghyun said, turning to Dowoon with a pointed look. “These guys are actually good.”

“Yeah…” Dowoon faltered, eyes looking straight up at one of the guys in the back. “They really are.”

They continued on with the rest of the song, and when it ended the whole bar erupted in cheers, some squealing, all of them clapping, and even Dowoon looking like he enjoyed it a little. He was already starting to look a bit cheerier. Younghyun smiled and turned back to the stage.

“Thank you, thank you,” that lead singer grabbed the mic again. “That song was called Satan’s Girl. If you liked that, we’ve got a whole lot more for you. This one’s called Sinners and Saints—”

They continued their gig with a few more songs, each impressing the crowd the more they sang and the more they played. By the time they were finished, everyone was talking about Demon Lullabies, wanting to buy their CDs, to know when the next album was coming out, and gushing to them while they intermingled with the crowd, a glass of beer in their hands.

“You guys seriously killed it on stage—how come I never heard about you before?” Younghyun asked as he sat on the bar counter, Dowoon on his left and the band’s bassist on his right. The lead singer was out in the corner saying, “Ladies, ladies.”

“Oh, you know how it is.” The guy shrugged and looked into his glass, the golden liquid already half-way down. “People only listen to what they wanna hear, and our sound isn’t exactly kicking with the masses.”

“I bet you’d get more popular if you went to more towns.” Younghyun leaned towards him while Dowoon sipped on his soda from a straw. “Perform more, maybe get a TV or radio ad in there somewhere.”

“Nah. We’ll probably just flop.” The guy sipped on his beer, looking like it was all he could afford that night. “Either we sacrifice our sound, or we sacrifice our wallets. Or, you know, sacrifice something else. But enough about Demon Lullabies.” He glanced at them both. “What’s going on with the both of you?”

“What do you mean?” He took a sip of his drink. 

“You were at the front of the crowd, so I could see practically everything.” He held the glass between his lips. “You two aren’t datin’, are you?”

At that, Younghyun burst out laughing and almost spit out the beer in his mouth.

“Who—me? And him?” He pointed at Dowoon, who was glancing at him from the corner of his eye. “No—no way. We’re just friends.”

“ _Just_ friends?” The guy raised his eyebrow. “Because I’m pretty sure you had your arm around him with all the googly eyes.”

“We’re _best_ friends, alright? We’ve known each other since we were kids.” Younghyun shook his head as Dowoon started slurping a bit loudly. “Whatever you saw was just completely platonic. Dowoon’s never even had his first girlfriend yet.”

At that, Dowoon spat out his drink and exclaimed, affronted.

“Younghyun! Don’t frickin’ tell him that!”

“Why not?” Younghyun looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “You told me before that relationships and the concept of virginity are overrated.”

“You’re a virgin?” The bassist raised his eyebrow at him.

“I’m no—I—” Dowoon shifted his eyes, not knowing who to look at. “I’m _not_ a virgin.”

“Then, who the fuck did you have sex with behind my back?” Younghyun crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair and giving Dowoon the Mother Eye. “You’re always bitching about the people _I_ have sex with, and now you’re telling me you actually fucked? I don’t believe you, Dowoon. If you’re not a virgin, what are you?”

Dowoon jerked his head when he heard that last sentence, eyebrow twitching when he saw that Younghyun looked nonchalant about it. Younghyun just turned away and laughed to that bassist like he didn’t think what he said meant anything.

“Anyway, just so we’re clear, he and I aren’t dating,” Younghyun informed him, making sure he didn’t mess things up. “In fact, I’m straight as a pole.”

That bassist suddenly smiled with a glint in his eye.

“Sure. I’ll take your word for it.” He gestured to the bartender to get them a new round of drinks. “In fact, why don’t I treat the both of you to a couple shots? You’re our very first fans. I have a feeling you’re gonna bring Demon Lullabies on the road to stardom.”

“Oh, thanks, but only I can drink,” Younghyun said, gesturing to the boy behind him. “Dowoon can’t drink for shit. He’d get drunk after only one sip.”

“Only one sip?” The bassist grinned and received three shots of liquor—strong, by the smell of it. “Well, that ain’t a way to live. Hey, Dowoon. I dare you to down these three in one go. Fifty bucks says you can do it.” He slid those three shot glasses across the bar counter.

But Younghyun stopped them with a hand.

“Uh, dude? I don’t think you get it.” Younghyun grinned at him, squinting his eyes a little. “When I say Dowoon can’t fucking drink, I mean he can't fucking drink.”

“Who says I frickin' can’t?”

The shot glass in his hand suddenly got snatched away, and Younghyun turned back to see Dowoon downing that liquor down his throat, eyes snapped shut, face crumpled, pale skin turning redder and redder.

“Now, _that’s_ more like it!” The bassist slammed his palms on the bar counter, laughing madly. “This night is going better than expected!”

“DOWOON!” Younghyun tried to take that second glass away from him, but Dowoon got it and the third glass and drank them at the same time. “What the fuck are you doing? You know you can’t handle your liquor—”

“ _You’re_ the one—” Dowoon was already wasted, tipsy, sentences slurring, a bit incomprehensible— “Always telling me to—live my life—and take control of it—” Dowoon almost knocked over the glasses. “Friggin’ hypocrite.”

“I meant for you to stop being so insecure of yourself, not destroy your liver!” Younghyun held him steady, but Dowoon swatted him away, moving to stand up and go somewhere else. “Come on, Dowoon. We’re going home. _Now_.”

“I don’t wanna I don’t wanna I don’t _wannaaa_ ,” Dowoon whined, going over to step on some poor guy’s table. “I’m living my life without you in it. I don’t need you to dictate what I should be!” 

Dowoon started yelling and hollering something Younghyun couldn’t comprehend, too focused on getting him down without getting kicked in the face. He said something with the words “hey”, “heartbroken”, “me”, “name”, but Younghyun didn’t really care.

“Hey!” Younghyun turned back to that bassist by the bar counter, as the crowd started yelling random people’s names for some reason. He was just watching the entire scene with a grin on his face. “Can’t you, like, help me with this or something? You’re like five years older than me.”

“Eh, you’re not my type,” the guy dismissed, and Younghyun dropped his jaw, beyond offended. “You’re just a high school kid with an asshole personality who can’t even tell when your best friend is hurt.”

“I—wha—?” Younghyun almost let Dowoon go to drop onto the dirty ground. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Yeah, that’s what I meant. Listen, kid,” and here he stood up and started walking to him leisurely, “I don’t give a shit if you’re repressed or whatever. You’re a friend before you’re a fuck. If you just shut your mouth, things wouldn’t have ended up this way—and by the way, being dense isn’t cute. I’m loyal to my fucking bandmates, so sorry for not being sorry. Okay?”

The guy approached Dowoon and grabbed his hand, making the boy turn down to look at him with drunken eyes. 

A fifty-dollar bill was pressed against his palm.

“There’s more where that came from,” the guy said with a sweet smile. “Sweetheart.”

Dowoon grinned and jumped down from the table, wrapping his arms around that guy’s neck immediately.

“And what else do you have for me?” he asked, leaning his face close with red-stained cheeks. “Another bet for a hundred? What do I have to do to get a thousand?”

That bassist wasn’t able to answer before Younghyun pried their arms off each other.

“ _Fucking stay away from him._ ” There was murder in Younghyun’s eyes.

But it was Dowoon who scoffed and retaliated.

“And who are you to frickin’ judge who I hook up with?” he said with a raised eyebrow, looking at Younghyun like he was trash. “You shame me for being a virgin, then shame me for losing it? I don’t need you to tell me who I can have sex with.”

Younghyun didn’t even mention sex, but the fact that Dowoon was already there made his blood both boil and run cold. 

“That man is dangerous, alright? You don’t know who you’re hooking up with!” He tried to pull Dowoon away but the boy was latched onto that bassist like super glue. “Just—come with me, and we can go home, and—”

“Fuck off!” Dowoon actually pushed Younghyun away until he was almost to the ground, and Younghyun was so stunned he didn’t move for a few seconds. He didn’t even register Dowoon swearing for the first time. “You’ve been an asshole all fucking night! You poked at my insecurities like it’s fun for you! How dare you fucking call yourself my _best friend_ when you don’t even _know_ me!”

Younghyun stayed standing on the bar floor like everything around him suddenly turned dark, and there were only voices echoing in his head.

_Insecurities…? But I didn’t… did I…? What did I…_

_“You’re just a kid with an asshole personality who can’t even tell when you’re best friend is hurt.”_

_When my best friend is… hurt._

Dowoon turned back to that bassist with a huff and pulled him out of the bar with a stomp of the feet.

“Let’s just fucking go,” he said, glaring as he passed Younghyun by. “I’m fucking done with him.”

Younghyun snapped out of it and chased after them, going over to yell, “WAIT!” and grabbing onto Dowoon’s shoulder.

But another guy shoved him away before he could touch him.

“Well, well, well.” It was the lead singer, giving him a nasty grin. “Guess Willowsbury really paid off, after all.”

Younghyun’s entire body ran cold as he registered the other members of Demon Lullabies following after Dowoon and their bassist, giving each other devious smirks and sneaky eyes, making him get a horrifying idea of what they were probably going to do.

He ran after them and chased them out of the bar, but his yells were met with laughter and silence as he was shoved against the pavement. He watched as they brought Dowoon into that gray, narrow car and sped away in the opposite direction. Younghyun tried to run after them, but he couldn’t make it, so he tried to call the police, but they were drunk, having a party to celebrate their chief’s birthday.

_Fucking Willowsbury and their fucking birthday parties._ Younghyun almost threw his phone down, tears forming in his eyes. _Fucking police and motherfucking Younghyun Kang_ — _you fucking_ _idiot!_

He sprinted back to his house to get into his car and tried to catch up with them, but they were already out of sight. He asked the locals if they saw a gray car passing by, but _everyone_ had gray cars, even Younghyun had a gray car, and no one could tell if the car belonged to Demon Lullabies or Crazy Lady Cynthia. Even if he tried to trace them, they would be too far gone. Even if he caught up with them, Dowoon might’ve—

He kept calling him and calling him the entire time he drove, furiously wiping the salt on his tears because he wasn’t the one who deserved to cry right now. But every call was ended, until every call went to voicemail, until eventually the robot lady told Younghyun that Dowoon’s number was unavailable.

“Dowoon, if you’re hearing this—” Younghyun tried his best to keep the sobs down— “I’m so fucking sorry. I won’t say anything like that again, alright? Just get out of there and come back, please, just come _back_.”

Eventually, Younghyun gave up and went to Dowoon’s house on the off-chance that Dowoon would return there. But he spent the rest of the night sending text after text after text after text, as if every character he typed on his stupid flip phone was a prayer sent to get his best friend back. But then Friday ended, then Saturday, then Sunday, and Younghyun stayed rooted on that windowsill where he and Dowoon used to talk for hours. Where he would listen to Dowoon talk about all the dwarves and magicians he loved, and Younghyun would keep attentive the entire time even though he didn’t understand any of it.

_We were supposed to watch your favorite movies and talk about those superheroes you love so much,_ Younghyun thought, tears dry, battery dead. _I was supposed to make you popcorn and make your favorite sauce._

He didn’t dare to take a bite to eat, as if every morsel was a piece of Dowoon’s flesh. He didn’t dare to take a bath or go style his hair because how could he care about his appearance at a time like this?

The three days passed by like thirty-three years, with Younghyun looking out the window to stare down at the people walking. It was only when he saw a few kids with backpacks that he realized—

Monday had finally come.

Younghyun dragged himself to school, feeling dull and lifeless, ignoring the usual peeps who would almost always get a smile and a wink in return. They notice that his friend isn't with him today, that nerdy, loser kid who always wore hoodies and covered his face. Compared to him, Dowoon was even duller, looking like the shadow to Younghyun's radiant light. Yet the boy always let him stay by his side, even at the lunch tables or hanging outside school. No one understood whyever he did that, but it was Younghyun, so no one could question him. Yet it seems like Younghyun isn’t his usual self today.

Younghyun finds himself standing in front of his locker, ignoring the whispers and looks his disheveled and stinky self is getting, entire stature sans his usual spark or style: Younghyun was always the one who took special care to his appearance, making sure he always looked right before going to school every day—Dowoon would always quip to him that one day, all that product would seep into his head and destroy his brain. And Younghyun once said, "Well, at least I'm not the one with the messy hair and baggy shirt covering up his good bits," going over to tease Dowoon by fiddling around with his shirt. 

Dowoon laughed and threw his head back laughing, holding back Younghyun's hands and keeping them away from his body. 

"I'm preserving them for my one and only," he said, giggling as Younghyun tickled him. "You wouldn't know since you're always gallivanting with some new fling." 

"Using big words on me now, huh?" Younghyun raised an eyebrow and gave him a grin. "Well, let's see if you’re just as big down there!" 

He pushed him down onto the bed, sending them both tumbling and giggling and guffawing all over, Younghyun pretending to strip Dowoon down, but really he was just teasing him. And Dowoon went over to run his fingers through his hair, sending him shrieking at his ruined hairstyle. 

"You think you can ruin my chastity?" he challenged, actually tugging at Younghyun's hair a bit and making him dread looking at the mirror later. "Fine! I'll ruin everything you love!" 

He went over and pinched Younghyun's face, planting marks in places that really didn't flatter his appearance. And Younghyun, of course, retaliated… by yelling out his surrender, completely thwarted by Dowoon's underhanded methods. 

"I give! I give! Please—just not the face!" Younghyun crumpled it, trying to pry off Dowoon's hands.

But found his wrists bound and a wicked smirk filling up his vision. 

"The face?" Dowoon questioned, and Younghyun gulped. "Quite bold of you to assume I'm stopping at the face." 

And with that Younghyun found Dowoon flipping them over so that he was on top, hands holding his wrists, legs on either side of him, face close to his with a raised eyebrow and a rare smile. 

"Got you," Dowoon said, eyes compelling and pulling Younghyun in. He found himself speechless, heart thumping from the excitement, and stared up at Dowoon in complete silence. 

"You got me," he eventually said, voice breathy, coming out in a whisper. There was something in the look of Dowoon's eyes, the moment he said those three words. And a feeling in his chest that he couldn't quite explain, but had been feeling for quite a while. 

But now, all that's diminished. 

Diminished, because his best friend is gone, and he can no longer see his smile or the way he laughs with bare teeth. Gone, because his best friend disappeared, and he won't ever hear him talk about superheroes again. Disappeared, because he was an asshole, and it was all his fault, and Younghyun doesn't know what to do without his best friend by his side. 

It's all his fault, and Younghyun can't do anything about it. All he can do is hold back the tears that shouldn't be his. 

Then, someone suddenly speaks.

"‘ _Perry Berry High School Senior Found Dead in Highway Forest_.’" 

Younghyun stills as the voice of one of the surrounding students fills his ears, standing behind him with the rustle of newspaper clear. His hands go clammy, palms going sweaty, heart cold and body freezing. He tells himself it can’t be him. Please, God, _anyone_ but him—

"‘ _Matteo Biscocho, aged eighteen, was found dead this morning in Highway Forest, due to reports of a foul stench_ —’"

The breath of relief that leaves Younghyun’s lips is shaky, and he finds himself holding onto his locker door for support. _It wasn’t him, it wasn’t him_ , he finds himself chanting in his head like a mantra, feeling like he got a second chance at life. But soon that life starts to wither down as he thinks, _A Perry Berry student was found dead in Highway Forest? But this is the first time that’s ever_ — _what if Dowoon_ — _not_ Dowoon—

Younghyun slams his locker with a _BANG!_ ignoring the gasps and whispers that were just now starting to circulate. If a student was found dead in Highway Forest, then that meant—Dowoon could’ve—Younghyun isn’t taking any more chances.

He turns around abruptly and starts running down the halls, feeling his eyes start to water again as a newfound determination takes over him. _If he’s alive_ — _if there’s any chance he’s alive_ —

But he isn’t able to finish that thought as he suddenly skids to a stop in the hallway.

Finding the reason why people were gasping and whispering. 

Finding his knees almost giving away and him falling.

Because the person who’s walking towards him now—

the person wearing a smirk and thin, black t-shirt—

is the person he’s been searching for three days on end,

the reason why he’d been crying for nights.

Dowoon Fucking Yoon, with an arrogant smile on his face and golden-brown eyes.

Dowoon Fucking Yoon, with a new t-shirt and a pair of ripped jeans.

Dowoon Fucking Yoon, with his toned muscles vivid as daylight.

Dowoon Fucking Yoon, hot as hell.

No one knew that such a loser could’ve turned this hot. No one who was whispering knew that that nerdy boy could be such a man.

But that wasn’t what was on Younghyun’s mind.

What was on his mind wasn’t the way Dowoon was walking like he owned the halls, when before he’d pretend he was never on it. What was on his mind wasn’t how he was wearing a familiar-smelling cologne that got everyone following him like a goddamn perfume commercial.

What was on his mind was that his best friend was right here, right now, walking towards him looking like he’s completely fine. What’s on his mind is that his best friend is alive, safe, and well—

_Well_ —

“Hey, Younghyun,” Dowoon says with a smile as he approached him, waving with one hand. “Did you miss me—”

Younghyun throws his hands around Dowoon’s neck and lets the tears fall down, gushing like a waterfall.

“ _You fucking asshole_ ,” he all-but sobs into Dowoon’s shoulder, whining and whimpering and wetting his thin shirt, hugging him tightly and refusing to let go.

He takes in Dowoon’s hair, Dowoon’s arms, not caring that they seem to be a bit different from usual days, just glad that his best friend is back, and _alive_ , and _safe_.

“I missed you so fucking much,” he continues to cry against Dowoon’s skin, not caring at the people pointing and whispering, not caring about what they would think. “I called you and called you, but you wouldn’t answer, and now you’re back—I thought you _died_ —”

His words jumble into more sobs, his thoughts in disarray, unable to leave his lips in a coherent sentence. And Dowoon just keeps his hands hovering over all of this, eyes blinking down at the boy hugging him like it’s his lifeline.

Until eventually his face molds into a smile, and he places his arms around his torso, placing soft pats on his head.

“Please, Younghyun. I’m your best friend,” he says, leaning his head against his and earning more sobs. “I won’t die until you will. And if I do, I’ll just come right back.”

Younghyun just cries and cries and hugs Dowoon even tighter, wanting to be next to him a million lifetimes over. And Dowoon continues to caress his head, keeping that small smile steady upon his shoulder.

_He’s back_ , he thinks. _He’s really, really back._

If only he knew exactly what that meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- edited this chapter only TWICE ✌️ that's actually great, for me  
> \- there's gonna be a lot of mystery and murder in this fic  
> \- i'm pretty sure we all know who the culprit is, though HAHAHAHA


	2. New Perspective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Younghyun interrogates Dowoon over lunch._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Recalling of a Forced Kidnapping and Attempted Assault

_SLAM!_

Younghyun's eyes stare deep into his, determination set in the center of his irises. 

"You are going to tell me everything, and you are going to tell me _now_." 

After Dowoon made his shocking return and Younghyun sobbed and cried in the hallway for ten minutes straight, the school bell rang and told them they had to separate, Younghyun not wanting to let go for even a second. 

"Come on, you big crybaby. We gotta go or we'll be late for class," Dowoon told him, gently prying his face off his shoulder, and even wiping his tears off his cheeks with a thumb. 

"Who cares about class? You were missing for _three_ _days_!" Anyone who was watching them and snickering instantly stopped, realizing that Younghyun's disheveled state actually had a reason like that. "I don't even know what happened to you yet—I don't even know if I _want_ to know—" 

"We'll talk about it at lunch break. Okay?" Dowoon thumbed his cheeks as if he always used to do that, patted his head as if it was something completely natural. "A couple hours isn't too long." 

Younghyun was so relieved to see his best friend back that he didn't notice the odd way Dowoon spoke, or the way he looked at him when he held his face. 

"Fine," he sniffed. "But the moment lunch comes, I'm dragging you to the cafeteria." And so they parted their ways. 

The entire morning, Younghyun was buzzing in his seat, shaking his leg, impatient beyond nature, and so when the bell rang he immediately sprinted out of the classroom and waited out the door he knew Dowoon was in. And once he came out, he grabbed his hand, pulled him away without a warning, and got the both of them lunch after placing Dowoon on their usual table. 

There usually wasn't anyone at their table, so they were alone in a crowd of people. 

And so we come back to the present. 

"Where do you want me to start?" Dowoon gives him a lazy grin as Younghyun settles down next to him, a couple metal trays in front of them. He takes a couple fries to pop in his mouth. "The kidnapping, or the cold grass?" 

"Everything, just—tell me everything." Younghyun was going to blow his brains out if Dowoon kept holding out for a second longer. 

Dowoon just smiles leisurely like he couldn't be less bothered. 

"Well, it was mostly a blur in the first few moments. I was drunk so everything was hazy. I was clinging to that bassist the entire time they drove, and I don't remember most of it, but he was acting all flirty with me, probably saying some things to keep me distracted from where they were taking me. Eventually, their car stopped, and I was forcibly taken out to a random forest, even though I didn't want to go because it was cold. They were all so nice to me earlier, but when I showed resistance they all dropped their act. That bassist was the worst of them all, just watching it all happen without even a care or a glance my way. He didn't even look like he was keeping watch for any witnesses; he just acted like it was normal to bring a kid to a forest in the dead of the night. They brought me there, struggling, with a gag put inside my mouth. Placed me on the ground, started spouting words that didn't make sense. I had an idea of what they were going to do to me. I was crying but no one heard me. 

"Then, eventually they left. Without touching a single part of me." 

Younghyun had his heart racing the entire time he listened to Dowoon's narration, but that last part made him pause and furrow his eyebrows, feeling something off there. 

"They just… left you there?" he asks, leaning closer to get a good look on Dowoon's face. Dowoon just looks at him like he's looking at a piece of paper on the floor. "Without doing anything?" 

"I'm pretty sure they wanted to do _something_." Dowoon shrugs, then scoffs like he finds it funny. "They singled me out and kidnapped me, after all. But they suddenly got a call from their company manager, saying that they had to head back to their place because they had to leave early in the morning, or whatever. I couldn't really tell much from the one-sided conversation. So, without any choice, they just left me there, still gagged, and threatened me to keep quiet about it. Or else they'll really do something I would regret."

Younghyun sucks in a small breath and places a hand on Dowoon's arm, not yet registering how odd it is that his skin is exposed. 

"So, for three days, you…" 

"I was stuck there, with nowhere to go to," Dowoon answers, staring right at Younghyun's eyes. "Didn't have anything to eat for three days. It was only when this weak old man came over that I was able to pry off the gags. My wrists and legs were bound, so I couldn't just leave. It turned out that Demon Lullabies brought me to some random forest that isn't even on the map. It's called Devil's Peak, but I doubt you can find anything. It's like two towns away, and I was extremely hungry and exhausted, so I had to stay in that sickly man's house until I was ready to go. He gave me a ride back home, and that's why I'm here."

Dowoon ends with a shrug and a smile on his face, then turns to see Younghyun trembling before his eyes. 

He pauses. 

"Are you crying again?" 

"I'm not—I'm _not_ —I just—" Younghyun half-buried his face in his hands, holding back the emotions he was able to keep down for four periods. "You were gone for three days. I thought you died, I thought they killed you, or did something worse—I didn't know if I would see you again." He lets out a shaky breath. "And to hear that you went through all that… God, fucking hell, Dowoon—I'm so _sorry_." 

Dowoon lets out a little confused laugh. "For what?" he asks, tilting his head a little. "You weren't the one who did that to me." 

"But you drank so much _because_ of me." Younghyun's eyes are steady, sincere. "Because of what I said. I wouldn't have known that you were hurt if that fucking bassist didn't tell me. And because of that, you got _motherfucking kidnapped_ —" 

"Hey. Hey." Dowoon suddenly drops the relaxed smile and seriously looks into Younghyun's eyes, placing a hand on his shoulder. "What happened was not your fault. Those guys were assholes— _they_ should be the ones taking the blame. And in the end, nothing even happened to me, so it's all good." 

Younghyun almost scoffs. "All good? You got fucking _kidnapped_. You were in a deserted forest for _three days_ —you couldn't even _eat_ for three days—who gives a shit if they weren't able to do what they wanted to do to you in the end?" Younghyun was absolutely seething, both at himself and those Demon Assholes. "They'd already done enough. And I let them do it. You're my best friend—I should've known in an instant if you were feeling hurt." 

"But you're not a mind reader, Younghyun. Even best friends of thirteen years got some things they don't know about each other." Dowoon places both of his palms against Younghyun's cheeks, and for a second, the thought of, _He's really touchy today_ , pops in Younghyun's mind but he doesn't think much of it. "Even if you did hurt me, it's nothing compared to what they did. I've already forgiven you—in fact, I don't even remember what you said." 

Younghyun stares at him for a beat, then lowers his lashes, deep in thought. Finds himself looking at the unfamiliar black shirt in front of him, getting a whiff of a familiar scent. 

"I'm still sorry," he says, not knowing what else. He was never really good at moving on from his mistakes. And he even has Dowoon comforting him when Younghyun should be the one doing that. 

"And I accept your sorry. Hm?" Dowoon goes over to ruffle Younghyun's hair, and places his palm against the side of Younghyun's neck. "Seriously, you are such a worrywart. Stop overthinking things and just be glad that your hot best friend is back." 

At that, Dowoon gives him a wink and smile, and it's got Younghyun surprised to the point that he bursts out in laughter, feeling the weight in his chest dissipate. 

"I can't believe I just heard you say that. And I can't believe you _winked_ at me," he says, shaking his head. "Who are you, and what did you do with Dowoon?" 

The grip on his neck tightens, ever so slightly. 

"Also this," Younghyun adds, tugging at Dowoon's short sleeve and gazing upon the skin revealed because of it. "I've been meaning to ask you since you came back, but where's your hoodie? I thought you didn't like it when you showed skin. And it turns out you're ripped as _fuck_." He could see the contours of Dowoon's body along the fabric. "How come you never told me before?" 

"You never asked," he answers, after a beat. 

"So you're telling me you've always looked like this?" And Younghyun grins up at him, a little amused. "No wonder you hid everything. If you didn't, people would be all over you. 

"And you smell exactly like the cologne I gave you last year. Don't tell me you're actually using it? I remember you told me that deodorant was enough." 

Younghyun looks up at Dowoon and gives him an amused smile, finding it all to be extremely funny. 

"You're not trying to be a carbon copy of me, are you?" he says, raising an eyebrow. "'Cause this isn't you. You just got back from a kidnapping scene. Why do all this?" 

Dowoon looks at him with an odd look in his eyes, squinting them a little, almost unnoticeably. 

"Who says this isn't me?" he asks instead of answering, thumb caressing the side of Younghyun's neck. 

"Dowoon, I've been your best friend for thirteen years. You don't just magically transform into someone new overnight. I mean—" Younghyun smiles down amused at Dowoon's t-shirt. It doesn't even have a superhero printed on it. "I'm not gonna lie, you look great, but it's a bit… different." 

"How different?" 

"Just… different." Younghyun laughs. "It's like I'm looking at a different person." 

Dowoon doesn't tear his gaze away from Younghyun's face. 

"I'm still me. Aren't I?" 

"I mean, yeah, but, you know, this new you, it's—" 

"New me?" 

Dowoon's face suddenly changes and freezes over, cold as ice. Younghyun's smile melts away, and he blinks at Dowoon surprised, taking in how serious he looks. 

"What's so wrong about the new me?" Dowoon asks, and Younghyun jerks from the tone. 

"Nothing. I just meant that—" 

"You don't like it?" Dowoon finishes for him. "You don't like how I'm not—wearing hoodies, not wearing cologne, how it seems like I'm a different person?" 

"That's not what I said! I—" Younghyun doesn't know why Dowoon's so pressed now. Just before he was winking at him and teasing him and ruffling his hair. All three of which were completely out of character, but at least it was in good nature. "I didn't say that I didn't like it. I just said that it's new and different, 's all." 

"But you'd prefer the old me, wouldn't you." And finally Younghyun senses something wrong. In his gaze, in the way he's looking at him. Like he's seeing something he can't see. "This new me is so different that you can't help but wanting to go back to the way things were before." 

"Dowoon, let's not fight, okay?" Younghyun places his hands on Dowoon's shoulders and rubs them the way he knows would calm him down. "You just got back. I don't want to do this when I've been waiting for you for so long."

"Fine." And for a moment, it looks like Dowoon's eyes flash gold. "Then, we won't fight." 

Dowoon suddenly takes those hands off his body and pushes Younghyun down on the bench where they're sitting, wrists put up over his head, making Younghyun widen his eyes, feeling heads turning. 

"Dowoon!" The boy goes over him, half-caging him. "We're at school! People are looking!" 

"Who cares?" Dowoon says, and his face is dark, looming over him. "This is the new me." 

The way Dowoon cages him, the way he looks down at him with cold eyes, has got Younghyun's heart palpitating like crazy. Nervousness. Intimidation. And… 

"Dowoon," he addresses him, scanning his face and finding something other than anger there. "Why are you doing this? What did I say that made you angry? Tell me. I wanna fix it." 

"You can't fix anything." And Dowoon's voice is laced with sharpness. Like a knife. Stabbing him over a hundred times. "You can't fix what's been broken. It's already happened, and I can't. Turn. _Back_." 

"What are you talking about?" Younghyun furrows his eyebrows at him, feeling the grip on his wrists tighten yet loosen, at the same time. "You're not making sense." 

But Dowoon doesn't say anything, just stares into Younghyun's eyes like there's something he wants to say but can't. 

But in the end, he loosens his grip. Like he's given up. Or became tired. 

He presses his head against Younghyun's chest. Or drops it, more like. 

"Sorry," he says, voice muffled, the vibrations travelling across Younghyun's skin. "I guess… I'm still out of it after…" He sucks in a breath. "... getting kidnapped." 

Younghyun breathes out a relieved sigh. So, that was it? He thought he had hit Dowoon's sore spot again, like how he hurt him in The Last Supper. 

He places a hand on Dowoon's head and pats his hair comfortingly, like he used to, like how he always did. 

"You should've just told me you were still feeling bad," he consoles him, still lying on that bench. Not caring how people are whispering and staring at them, now that he knows what's up. "You don't have to pretend in front of me. It's okay if you're not okay." 

He eventually sits him back up because they _are_ still in public, after all. And blatant PDA is illegal in the school handbook. He just sits close to Dowoon as they sit together in comfortable silence, Younghyun keeping protective watch over his best friend. 

He hopes that starting from now, things will finally go back to normal, but what he doesn't know is that this is just the beginning. 

("... Fucking hell, dude—where did you get this?" 

("My mom works at the police station. You know. The only officer that actually does her job. Anyway, I stole these from her while she wasn't looking, so check every detail—I have to get them back by tonight." 

("Man, dude, this is sick. I've only read about this stuff in books and saw it in illustrations, but to see the real thing… It's tragically beautiful." 

("More like beautifully tragic. I've never seen these kinds of marks on any human being before—and let it be known that I've seen a lot from the cases I've peeked into the last couple of years." 

("What do you think could've done it? Because no matter how you look at it, it doesn't seem to be done by a normal beast. But the newspaper said it was a bear or a wolf, right?" 

("But wolves and bears don't act like this. I've read about the behavior of predatory animals, and this doesn't coincide with any of it. Wolves will fight, and wolves will kill, but they will never leave their victims like this. It's just something they don't do."

("You don't think this was done by some regular animal?" 

("Only one way to find out. Something tells me this isn't a normal case…") 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- oh wow a murder case that involves the victim having a possibly human but also not-human perpetrator i wonder who that could be in this au inspired by jennifer's body  
> \- btw i'm not really sure what is counted as nasty in goreverse, i'm pretty squeamish just looking at a ricebug so i dont really know if this fic really is as hardcore as i sell it to be  
> \- and also!!!! if i ever forget to tag anything, please tell me so i can add it!!! i try my best to include anything that i think could be triggering, but if i forget, please tell me!!!


	3. Everything is Fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Wanting to make up for the lost days, Younghyun goes over to Dowoon's to hang._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Referenced Cheating  
> Slightly NSFW: Moaning, Making Out, Brief Groping

After making up after that short spat in the cafeteria, Dowoon approached Younghyun in the hallways and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“My house. You free?” he asked, walking beside him among the crowd going back to the classrooms. Neither of their schedules overlap, so they always have to part ways after breaks in school.

"'Course. You know I always have time for you." Younghyun grinned at him, glad that they could go back to their usual routine. "What are we doing?" 

"You'll know," Dowoon answered in perhaps the vaguest way possible. He patted his shoulder and slipped into a classroom before Younghyun could ask. "I'll meet you in the parking lot, by your car after school." 

And so Younghyun has no choice except to wait in the middle of his World Literature class, tapping his pen against his textbook impatiently, wondering exactly what they’re going to do. It’s the fact that Dowoon kept it so vague that makes him so curious about it—though knowing Dowoon, he already has a few ideas. 

The boy is an absolute fanatic of anything superhero, magic-like, or robots going into space to fight galactic crime. He would collect comic books, go out of town to go to a theatre to watch the premiere of his favorite movie franchise, and go on for _hours_ talking about the symbolism of a certain gem and why it was imperative that it was color green and _not_ red _or_ blue and definitely _not_ purple—heaven knows what would've happened if it was _purple_. 

He would always go off and rant on to Younghyun about anything he was currently obsessed with, the one-sided conversation often occuring on that window sill in his bedroom, the spacious one that could fit two people. It could take hours before Younghyun could even get a word in, and that was usually because he either had to pee or he was cooking something in the kitchen and it was probably burning. 

But all in all, Younghyun loved to watch Dowoon talk about the things he loved with a passion. Using those wild gestures, those brightened, inspired eyes, the way his cheeks would push up when he grinned. Younghyun loved to watch Dowoon let go of that timid nature he always had and go off on a tangent without a care in the world. If it wasn't Younghyun listening, he wouldn't say anything at all. If it wasn't Dowoon speaking, he wouldn't pay any attention. 

He was always the person that Dowoon dragged to go to that movie premiere because he was too scared to go out of town alone. The person that Dowoon pulled him over to show him a page on his comic book that Younghyun seriously had no idea the context of. The person who would nod his head when he'd say that the gem being purple would turn the whole lore upside-down, even though he didn't understand a thing. The person who could probably relate the _least_ to anything Dowoon was interested in but still wanted to hear him talk about it. 

In all honesty, neither of their interests overlapped with one another typically, but they were so close they just didn't care. They could babble on, knowing that the other person didn't get it, but still appreciate their company because there was no one else they wanted to talk to. That was the kind of relationship they had, the kind of relationship they always did. 

And so Younghyun assumes he's probably going to watch a movie about robots tonight. 

Or read a comic book about space mermaids. Or binge Dowoon's favorite movies like he promised last Friday. He still has to make that popcorn and those nachos. That means he'll have to go to the market… 

_RIIING!_

The school bell finally sounds, and Younghyun throws his head back with a giant sigh, reaching his arms up to stretch and thank God that school is finally over. He could finally kick back and relax and hang with Dowoon to talk about fairies or whatever. Dragons are always a good topic. Dowoon once talked about dragons for an entire month. 

He hears a few whispers and snickers behind him, and he turns to see a few students looking at him and covering their noses. It's then that he remembers that, oh, right, he hasn't bathed in three days and probably looks completely haggard, quite unlike the way he usually presents himself. 

He immediately puts his arms down and rushes out of the classroom in an embarrassed heat, as if his face was an oven and his cheeks were pieces of bread. He forces himself not to crumble under the gaze of the hallway people staring after him and promises to lather himself with egg wash the next day, this symbolism notwithstanding. 

He reaches his locker and places all his books inside. Their only homework for the day is to read a passage in advance, so basically, no homework. 

He's about to close his locker and leave when someone suddenly leans on the locker beside him. 

"Hey, Younghyun," says a flirty, sultry voice. "You're looking fine today." 

"My hair's a mess, my skin is awful, and I smell like a skunk—what do you want." Younghyun turns to the person talking to him, that person being a girl with sharp eyes and dark brown hair. 

This girl is Younghyun's ex-girlfriend. And that usually wouldn't be notable since Younghyun has a _lot_ of ex-girlfriends. He was that guy who couldn't maintain a relationship for more than two weeks, always switching and getting tired of it eventually. He didn't understand it either, why he was never satisfied with any single one of them, when in the beginning he'd be enamored with that same old puppy love. 

But this girl is different. Why? Because out of all of the exes that Younghyun’s had, she was the one who lasted five months. 

Five months! From Valentine's Day to the last day of June, she was the only serious girlfriend whom he had been absolutely enraptured with. She had asked him out on Valentine's Day, held his hand in the halls, and kissed him under the fairy lights during the junior-senior promenade dance. People were so shocked to the point that they basically put the both of them up for marriage, already imagining them slipping each other rings, having a honeymoon, ten kids, growing old together. 

That was, until someone came running to Younghyun's house one summer day to give him a postcard given by their friend. 

"You're not going to believe this," that person said, name long forgotten. Dowoon was with him at the time, so he also got to see it firsthand. 

Younghyun's girlfriend of five months was caught cheating in some whatever place called Texas, with a guy that looked hotter than Younghyun by all means. The printed photograph showed her sharing a kiss with him under the glow of fairy lights, like the time _they_ had kissed under the glow of fairy lights, all those years ago. 

Needless to say, Younghyun broke up with her, on the phone to especially spite her, and ever since, Younghyun hasn't had a single girlfriend. It would just be flings or hook-ups, or nothing too serious, just casual, with no one _cheating_ on anybody, cough cough. And her impact became a legend throughout the school halls, increasing _both_ their reputations, for reasons varying one another. On normal days they wouldn't even look at each other, let alone talk, so her approaching him right now is very suspicious. 

"Oh, Younghyun, you _do_ still know me," that girl says now, giving him a smirk and a quirk of the eyebrow. Younghyun turns away and shudders. She's strong. "Fine. For you, I’ll come clean: 

“I want you to give me Dowoon's number." 

Younghyun furrows his eyebrows and closes his locker door shut. 

"And why on Earth would you want Dowoon's number?" 

He would have never expected this of all things. 

She laughs. "Did you even _look_ at him today? He's smoking _hot_ now, and all he did was wear a t-shirt." 

Since Younghyun is popular in the school, Dowoon consequently became a bit well-known as well. The loser kid who was somehow best friends with the hottest guy in school. While Younghyun was famous, he was infamous. It brought on a lot of problems.

"I didn't even know that he had such a body under those hoodies." Also, his hoodies were kind of distinctive. Anyone who wore an oversized hoodie would be immediately labeled as "a Dowoon". "No wonder you keep him around." 

Younghyun feels his eye twitch at that remark and walks past her, wanting to leave. But of course, she had to follow. 

"I don't care what you say or what you think of Dowoon. I'm not giving his number to anybody." He exits the school with the light of the afternoon shining down and scans the parking lot for his car. "You and the other guys used to laugh and make fun of him and refused to talk to him, and now you wanna give him a call? No way." 

"Oh, come _on_. That wasn't our fault.” She gestures with her hands as if to remove herself from the situation. “If he was just friendlier and more outgoing like you, he would've had more than one friend." 

"He wrote an essay about stars going into war, and you guys made fun of him for two days." Younghyun glares at her from where he stands on the school steps. "It’s not like you make it easy for him to be less timid." 

"We can all learn from our mistakes." She shrugs like she doesn't see the big deal. "Plus, don't you know? Nerds are in this season." 

Younghyun scoffs, unbelieving, and goes down the steps. "Whatever. Fuck you." 

She checks her nails. "Sorry, we already broke up." 

Younghyun seethes and rolls his eyes, stepping onto the parking lot. He’s about to stomp away when he hears her call out for him once again.

"Younghyun, may I _remind_ you that I still know your secret?" 

Younghyun stops in the middle of his walk, back faced towards her. 

She continues, "If you don't want your _loved_ ones to know, I suggest you don't cross me." 

Younghyun breathes deeply for a few seconds before he lets out a huff and brings a middle finger up behind him, stomping down on the concrete, livid. He hears her laugh and knows she got the message. 

Dowoon's gonna be having a few calls in the following days. 

She finally leaves, and Younghyun just tries to calm himself down, not wanting to be in a bad mood around Dowoon. He takes in deep breaths, reminding himself that Dowoon is a literal angel, and finds himself feeling better after passing by a couple cars. He spots his own car, gray with no roof, in the distance, with a figure leaning against it. 

That figure is, of course, Dowoon, with his flip phone in hand as he stares at it intensely, looking serious. Younghyun ends up letting out a laugh at that because Dowoon only ever uses his phone to play games or ask his mom for money. And since Younghyun isn't receiving any texts, he assumes it's the former. 

"Dowoon!" he starts to call, still a little bit in the distance, the boy still distracted. "What are you—" 

_Smack_. 

A piece of paper suddenly smacks itself on Younghyun's face, making him reel back with a yelp, adjusting to the words suddenly in his vision. 

MATTEO BISCOCHO: SEARCH FOR TRUTH

Younghyun blinks and finds that piece of paper being lowered in front of him, revealing a pair of faces that couldn't be more different. One was a blond nerd who tucked his shirts inside his pants, and the other was a black-haired goth with thick eyeliner surrounding his eyes. Neither of them Younghyun is familiar with, while both of them look at Younghyun like they're at a job interview applying for his company. 

"Hello, Younghyun," the blond nerd greets, a bit formally. "We’re members of the Journalism Club here at school. I know you don't usually associate yourself with losers like us, but we figured that since you're best friends with Dowoon, you'd give a chance to our cause." 

Younghyun leans and peeks behind the nerd to look at the aforementioned boy still looking at his phone with a furrow in his eyebrows, then goes back to his original position, addressing the pair in front. 

"Uh, sure." He shrugs. "What's up?" 

"As you know, Matteo Bisocho, the former school Minister of Environmental Affairs, was found dead early this morning in Highway Forest, with complaints of the stench leading to the discovery of his body." The nerd talks about it like it's a case written on paper, a fabricated scenario on a quiz. "He was found with bite marks scattered all over his neck and down to his torso, and his entire belly was eviscerated." 

"Oh, damn." Younghyun crumples his face from the image. 

"Yeah, it's sick." The goth boy says "sick" like he means "cool". "The newspaper said that it was probably a rabid animal attack, from a wolf or a bear or some other predatory animal. It's the first time in a while since we've had this sort of thing—the last time was in 1942, and that was because some idiot decided to walk through Highway Forest holding sacks of meat.

"But what's weird about claiming that a wolf did it is that wolves don't gut their victims, even if they do decide to kill them. There isn't a single animal in the world who would even _think_ of doing that—whether their victims are humans or not. The fact that Matteo was disemboweled already reeks of suspicion. But at the same time, it doesn't seem like anything other than an animal did it, either."

"I was able to get some pictures of the scene from my mother's office at the police station,” the blond nerd says, “and if you looked at them, you would notice that the bite marks look completely inhuman. Rather than saying it was a single wolf or bear, it seemed more like it was done by _multiple_ wolves and bears. Or a wolf that's at least three times in size.

"In the end, we concluded that there was something off with what was reported, but without supporting evidence, we can't make any conclusions."

"The reason why we approached you today is because we need all the information we can get about that night—and about Matteo, too. He was a popular kid, so we figured you might know a bit about him, and why he was even out that night in the first place. The estimated time of death is from 10 PM Friday to 2 AM Saturday last week. So if you have any information regarding then, we'd gladly appreciate it."

Younghyun nods a bit, though he's pretty sure he wouldn't have much to offer. He was busy freaking out and thinking Dowoon was dead during those times, so...

"If I have anything, I'll let you know," he says instead, accepting the flyer they offered. It contained their contact details, as well as details about the case. He pockets it. "I assume you guys were friends of his?" 

"Oh, no. We're complete strangers," the blond nerd denies instantly. "We were supposed to write an article about this in the school newspaper, but when we saw the discrepancies, we decided to investigate it ourselves—”

"And _what_ are we doing here?" 

Someone suddenly swoops in and takes a flyer out of that blond nerd's hands, draping an arm around Younghyun's shoulders, the familiar scent passing by his nose. 

"‘Matteo Biscocho: Search for Truth’," Dowoon reads out loud, then turns the flyer back to them. "The hell is this bullshit?" 

The blond nerd instantly frowns.

"An investigation that we members of the journalism club are trying to partake in," he says, looking him up and down. "Since when were _you_ so rude?" 

"Since when did that matter?” Dowoon scoffs, giving him a sarcastic look. “Are you some kind of, really important guy that I have to serve and bow down to? ‘Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize His Royal Highness wanted to be babied and revered like a god.’ Next time, I’ll make sure to take _really_ good care of your ego.”

Younghyun blinks, surprised at the way Dowoon is speaking. He isn't the type to insult people to their faces. He’s not still in a bad mood, is he? 

The blond nerd lets out an affronted sound, almost smiling in disbelief.

“Oh, my god, you—” He lets out a laugh. “I cannot believe you just said that. What—just because you got better clothes now, you think you’re better than me? We used to have conversations about the best sci-fi franchise in history!”

"You talk to someone once in Calculus, and suddenly they think they're in love with you." Dowoon just pulls Younghyun away and walks past them, deadpan. "Star Wars is overrated bullshit, and Luke can suck my ass." 

Younghyun turns back to see that pair behind him throwing a fit and looking offended beyond nature, and looks back at Dowoon who still has a steel grip on his shoulder. 

"Did you really have to say that?" he asks, frowning at his straight face. "That was real mean, man." 

"They're outsiders investigating the death of a boy whose family just started mourning." Dowoon glances at him from the corner of his eye. "If I'm mean, they're fucking insensitive." 

Younghyun just keeps watch over Dowoon's face as they reach his car, minding the hand on his shoulder, the way he swears, and how he's slipping into the driver's seat when it's Younghyun's car. 

"I thought you said you were too afraid to crash into someone to learn how to drive," he says, standing outside the car, just beside the passenger's seat. 

"There's a first time for everything." Dowoon looks at him through the lack of a roof on the car. "I have a feeling I'll do well today." 

And so Younghyun slips in beside him and lets him take the wheel, putting away that odd feeling he's had since Dowoon came back. 

There is a reason why Dowoon doesn’t drive. And Younghyun experienced it in the course of just twenty minutes. 

“ _Aaand_ we’re home,” Dowoon said, parking the car just outside his house. “I didn’t run anyone over, and only seven people in total yelled at me, so I’d say that was a success.”

He turned to Younghyun. 

Who was shaking in his seat like a chihuahua.

“Do me a favor,” Younghyun said, voice shaking, knuckles white, hands gripped onto his seatbelt like it’s his lifeline, “and never— _ever_ —drive _any_ car, ever again.”

Dowoon poked his cheek with a grin. “You said ‘ever’ twice.”

“And I’d say it again if it means you’ll never drive.”

Long-story-short, Dowoon is now banned from touching Younghyun’s steering wheel, and the both of them now situate themselves in the middle of Dowoon’s living room, the latter crouched in front of the DVD player, and the former seated on the couch, looking upon the shirt he’s wearing with great interest.

“Is this guy called Red-Blue Man?” Younghyun asks, and Dowoon looks up to see him stretching his own shirt. “Or maybe Wide-Eyed Man. Acrobatics Man? Why is he on a building?”

“That’s Spiderman,” Dowoon says, eyes lingering on the shirt a second longer than necessary. “He’s got a spider on his chest.”

“Ohhh, I see it.” Younghyun lets go of his shirt. “Eh, basically the same thing.”

The reason why Younghyun is wearing Dowoon’s clothes right now is because he couldn’t bear the stench that his body was emanating. The moment he walked through Dowoon’s door he immediately veered towards the direction of the bathroom, Dowoon calling to him as he went.

“You don’t have anything left over from last time, you know,” he said, his companion already up the stairs. “If you shower, you’re gonna have to stay naked if you wanna keep being clean.”

“I’ll just wear something of yours,” Younghyun calls back. “You’re only slightly bigger than me. We used to share clothes before, right?”

“Yeah, in the _third_ grade.”

“Whatever.” Younghyun rolls his eyes. “‘S not like I’m borrowing your underwear. Be down in five.”

And so Younghyun is now seated on the couch, wearing Dowoon’s pants and Dowoon’s black Spiderman t-shirt. His hair is only slightly damp and now he smells exactly like Dowoon. He glances up to see Dowoon glancing away.

“Your ears are red. What are you thinking?” Younghyun asks, slightly tilting his head as Dowoon pretends to adjust the DVD player.

“That one time I tripped over myself in the third grade.” Dowoon shrugs. “Sometimes, the memory comes back to me.”

Younghyun chuckles and just lets Dowoon lie, thinking whatever it was probably wasn’t important. He lets his eyes wander and go over the scenery of the room, the drabbiness of the floor, the dullness of the walls.

_He hasn’t changed the wallpaper in two years,_ Younghyun thinks. _It’s been that long, huh._

When Dowoon was nine years old, his dad left him for a red-haired twenty-year-old who tested positive on the pregnancy test, his mother taking it the worst. Drinking all night, forgetting to take care of him--if Younghyun hadn't constantly dragged him for a sleepover, who knows what would've happened to him. 

In Dowoon's freshman year, his mom started dating someone from outside of town, and in the middle of it they got married when they found out she was having a baby. She left Dowoon on his sixteenth birthday to be with her new husband and the new baby in her belly and has since only been there through ATMs and monthly allowances. When Dowoon asks for money, she'll give it to him regardless of the amount, as if that would make up for her lack of raising him. 

When Dowoon's dad left, she would always change the wallpaper once a month, as if to remove all the pain he left behind. But since she's left, the wallpaper's been the same: a pattern of autumn leaves flying away in the breeze. Colored a dark brown with a tint of dark purple, fraying a little at the edges. 

Younghyun wouldn't force Dowoon to carry on the tradition, but he did quite like seeing a new wallpaper every month. After living alone for so long, he ended up being fond of household things. And of course, he had his own backstory to tell. 

While Dowoon's parents are divorced, Younghyun’s parents are still together, but they work overseas and very rarely come home. When they do, it's usually for emergencies, like that time Younghyun got into an accident and was bedridden for a good month. They rushed over to check if he was okay and left the moment Dowoon offered to watch over him. 

Birthday presents were given through giant boxes full of imported goods. And postcards were sent a few times a year, like that one time they took a company trip to Japan and wrote, "Hope you're doing well." 

Younghyun hasn't seen them in the last five years, not since he last got into an accident. His childhood years were spent with a nanny. And the rest was spent alone with Dowoon sleeping over, almost every day. 

Dowoon was probably the only good part of his childhood. Dowoon might as well have _been_ his childhood. Being around no one, he made sure to be around Dowoon every day. Like that would make it better. To be the person he always wanted to be around. Where he was Dowoon, and Dowoon was him. 

"You're smiling. What are you thinking about?" 

Younghyun looks up to see Dowoon giving him a knowing smirk, settling down on the couch, the remote in his hand. 

Younghyun grins. "Just that time when you tripped over yourself in the third grade. Sometimes, the memory comes back to me." 

Dowoon grins back and shakes his head, and Younghyun settles beside him, relaxing with a smile on his face. 

"So, I'm assuming we're gonna watch a movie tonight?" he says. "You should've told me. I would've made snacks." 

"Actually, it's better that you didn't," Dowoon says, lifting the remote and turning the TV on. "You probably shouldn't eat anything while watching this movie." 

"Why?" Younghyun turns to him, amused. "Is there a scene where a cat shits on a pile of mice, and the mice _somehow_ turns into a supervillain that Spiderman has to defeat?" 

Dowoon glances at him, almost pointedly. 

"This isn't a superhero movie." 

"Sci-fi, then? Or fantasy? I heard that there's a lot of gore in fantasy movies nowadays." 

"Neither of those, either." Dowoon looks straight at the TV. "I'm not into that anymore." 

Younghyun blinks. What? 

What else is Dowoon most passionate about if it's not fantasy, sci-fi, or superheroes? 

"But you love talking about those little characters and explaining the different universes and going into detail about everything." He vaguely remembers how he insulted that star war movie to that blond nerd earlier. "You could go on for hours just talking about one thing." 

"It's just pointless." Dowoon turns to him, a leveled look in his eyes. "And so boring to watch all these heroes going on quests and finding a magical world full of unrealistic shit. They make you hope for something that isn't real, and make you feel like you can get it. What's the point of talking for hours about a fictional world, when it's got nothing to do for this one? Sci-fi and fantasy ain't shit. I don't know why I used to like it."

Younghyun feels speechless at Dowoon's words, finding it to be completely out of character. Something he'd never say. 

He once said that sci-fi and fantasy represent the future of the generation, listing down all the different things people hope for and want to escape to. That it may have been fictional, but it had every bit to do with the real world as it did with its own world. That there's nothing wrong with dreaming, or hoping, or escaping. 

Yet here he is now, completely retracting his statement and taking away his previous beliefs. First, he didn't dress the way he usually did, and now he doesn't like the things he usually does? What's happening to him? And what happened _to_ him? 

"But," Younghyun says again, furrowing his eyebrows, confuddled, "if it's not sci-fi, and it isn't fantasy, then what—" 

" _Oh, baby, you really know how to do me good_ ," the voice of a man suddenly says, amidst gasps and moans. _"Yes, baby, there. Right there. Oh—_ " 

Younghyun whips his head and widens his eyes to the scene unfolded in front of him. It's a pair of men having sex in a bathroom, up against a tiled wall, the shower on and running. The man who just spoke is being fucked against the camera, face in full view, the man behind thrusting into him at a merciless pace. 

Younghyun is frozen stiff, that previous conundrum thrown out the window as he watches a handsome stranger get railed to death by another handsome stranger. 

He feels an arm drape around his shoulder, hand gripping him tight as if to keep him from running. 

"Believe it or not," Dowoon says, hot breath in his ear, "I'm here for the plot." 

That first man has his arms pressed against the wall as the man behind him plants kisses on his neck, the sound of his moans resonating. 

" _You taste so good, baby_ ," the man says, continuing to thrust into that man and licking a stripe on his skin, dripping in sweat and water. " _So good I just wanna eat you up._ "

The man against the wall starts letting out cries that tell of a climax building up, the man behind him only fucking him harder and faster, the sound of skin slipping against skin, against tiles getting louder. 

" _You're a five-star meal, baby_ —" His bottom begs for him to go faster— " _Plastered on a silver plate_ —" His tongue lolls out of his mouth— " _You taste so fucking good—_ " The man screams—

" _And I'm so fucking hungry_." 

The man suddenly _bites_ into the man's neck and _rips_ the flesh from his body—revealing a set of monstrous fangs and eyes turning bloodshot red. The victim screams as cries of pleasure turn to cries of pain and horror, as the man behind him continues to fuck and eat him to death, the blood dripping and splashing onto the white tiles, covering everything in red. 

Eventually, the screen gets covered in a spray of blood, and the movie fades into the title, Fucking Delicious. Ha. Dowoon actually lets out an amused breath of laughter as a small smirk forms on his lips, finding it to be funny. 

"While sci-fi and fantasy ain't shit, there _is_ something intriguing about supernatural movies," he says as he keeps Younghyun underneath his arm, the side of his body pressed against his. "That, and violence and sex are best together—don't you think?" 

Younghyun doesn't answer, and Dowoon smirks again. 

"Let me guess," he says, as the movie goes into the opening credits scene, showing a montage of various limbs tangled erotically in a sea of red. "You're horrified that I'm into this because the closest I've ever had to watching porn before was seeing various elves wearing off-the-shoulder dresses, and that this is something you'd never think I'd do.

"Ain't that ri—" He turns—

And widens his eyes. 

For Younghyun is staring at the screen eyes blown wide with a pair of hands covering his face, looking horrified beyond nature. But if one were to look closer, they'd see that his face is painted red, the skin on his shoulder hot, a gasp stuck and lodged in his throat. 

A leg crossed over the other, when before it wasn't. 

A short breath leaves Dowoon's lips, and his voice is breathy. 

"Younghyun," he says, but Younghyun doesn't answer. "Younghyun, look at me." 

And only then does Younghyun snap out of it. 

He lets out an awkward laugh, finally remembering that he exists and that there's a boy next to him. He puts his hand down and turns to him, scratching his neck. 

"S-sorry," he says, "I guess I was distrac—" 

He isn't able to say more when Dowoon crashes his lips into his. 

Younghyun is frozen stiff, even more so than watching that scene. Yet Dowoon just kisses him further, even as Younghyun's lips stay unmoving. 

His hands hover over Dowoon's back, taken back a thousand steps. As he feels Dowoon reach over and wrap his arms around his torso. 

This isn't the first time they've kissed. 

The first time was in freshman year, when they were talking on Younghyun's bed, talking about how everyone was crushing and dating now, especially since Younghyun just got his first girlfriend. 

"I can't believe you went and asked out a girl without telling me," Dowoon complained, rubbing his head against Younghyun's shoulder like a puppy to his owner. "Next, you're gonna leave me, and then you're gonna get married, and I'm going to get stuck in an apartment with too many plants." 

Younghyun just laughed and ruffled Dowoon's hair, pulling him in his arms and coaxing him. 

"Come on, now. I'm not gonna leave you just because I'm dating someone." He pinched Dowoon's cheeks fondly. "You were here before she was." 

"That's what they _all_ say." Dowoon dramatically placed the back of his hand on his forehead and "fainted" onto Younghyun's lap, head on his thighs. "But see eight years from now, when the both of you are happily married, and I'm going to stay a hermit, never once knowing the feeling of true love's kiss." 

A smile spread across Younghyun's face. 

"Well, I don't know about the whole marriage thing, but I _do_ know you won't be without that first kiss," he said, going over to cup Dowoon's cheeks. 

"And why is that?" he asked, opening one eye. 

Younghyun grinned. 

"'Cause you'll have mine."

And he leaned down and pressed his lips against Dowoon's, closing his eyes and kissing him with a smile. He could feel Dowoon steel under him, the face he held in his hands turning warmer, then hotter. 

When he pulled away, he saw constellations in Dowoon's eyes, and emission nebulae coloring his cheeks. Two moons reflecting the glow of the sun above his face. 

Younghyun laughed, retracting his hands. 

"Bet you were wishing a girl would steal your first kiss—" 

Dowoon suddenly reached up and pulled him down and pressed his lips on Younghyun's again, wrapping them in his, closing his eyes shut, the hands on his cheeks trembling. And Younghyun found himself closing his eyes as he kissed him, surprising his own self, kept a hand wrapped around his wrist, holding onto it tightly. 

When Dowoon pulled away, he dropped his head back down on Younghyun's lap and looked anywhere else, fiddling with his fingers and trying to look casual. 

"So, when's your first date?" he asked, as if they didn't just kiss twice, and Younghyun lagged for a moment, before placing a hand on Dowoon's hair. 

"Thursday," he answered with a smile, stroking his head. "She likes chocolate, so I was thinking of buying…" 

After they broke up after only two weeks of dating, Younghyun and Dowoon kissed each other on-and-off, off-and-on, as Younghyun switched between girlfriends and started going in his dating spiral, creating an infamous reputation for himself. They never saw it as more than friends having fun, and it was mostly just play for them, or to relieve them of their desires. 

"I just don't get why you keep breaking up with them in the end," Dowoon said, aged sixteen-and-a-half, as they sat on his bed, a hand on Younghyun's cheek as he placed a kiss on his lips. "You're always so infatuated at first, but after time passes, you get bored so easily." 

"I think it's because over time I kinda… get to know them better?" Younghyun frowned as Dowoon kissed him, sucking on his bottom lip and nibbling at it. "I mean, at first I go out with them because I like something about them, but towards the end, it feels like… like there's something else I want, but they don't have it." 

"Then, maybe you shouldn't go out with anyone until you know." Dowoon kissed him twice, making Younghyun let out an involuntary moan, blushing because he rarely did. "You'd break a lot less hearts that way." 

Younghyun snorted. "It's not like I _want_ to break anyone's hearts—I try, you know, but towards the end the feeling fades." Dowoon kissed him in a way that got him distracted for a moment, pausing before speaking again. "But maybe you're right. Maybe I should see if I really like someone first befo— _woah,_ you are getting better at kissing. Seriously, what the _fuck_."

Dowoon grinned at him and bit his lip a bit shyly, a flush on his cheeks. 

"Well, we kiss each other basically every month, so." He placed a peck on Younghyun's lips. 

"Your future girlfriend is going to be _so_ glad to have a guy with experience." Younghyun grinned. 

While an odd smile played on Dowoon's lips. 

"Yeah. Sure," he said, before leaning in. "My future girlfriend."

After that, Younghyun started getting into relationships less, with just a few here and there. They lasted for a little _more_ than two weeks, but still less than a month. 

Then that thing with Younghyun’s most notable ex-girlfriend happened, and Younghyun stopped dating. 

"It's called karma," Younghyun spat, after their informant left Younghyun’s house when they saw how angry he was. "It's because I was too caught up in being in a relationship and kept throwing people away. This happened because of that. God, I'm such an idiot." 

Dowoon looked up at him from where he sat cross-legged on his bed, to turn eighteen in just a few months. 

"Younghyun, it isn't your fault that she did what she did." He took one of Younghyun's hands in his and made him look at him, eyes glassy. "Yes, what you've been doing wasn't exactly ideal, but you've been trying to improve, weren't you? And you never cheated on anyone. You were just trying to find your perfect match." 

" _She_ was my perfect match," Younghyun spat, trying not to cry. "An asshole--like _me_. I _thought_ she was the one. I'm never going to find _anyone_." 

"You'll find someone. You will." 

Younghyun shook his head. 

" _No_. I won't. I'll never find someone who will love me the way I want to be loved, I'll never find someone who'll love me the way I want to love. 

"I'll just be alone for the rest of my life with no one to care for me. And I'll never have a family. I'll never be a husband, I'll never have a son, not _one_ son to tell him I—" 

His voice cut off when Dowoon grabbed his face and kissed him, feeling salty waves crash against his skin, rolling down, dropping into the ocean floor.

He kissed him amidst the sobs, kissed him and pulled him down the bed, kissed him and caged him and held him close, comforting him the way only he could. 

And when he pulled away, Younghyun looked up at him, through blurry, wet eyes, reaching a hand up to caress his face, hiccuping and swallowing. 

"Why can't any of them be like you?" he asked, tears still falling, but Dowoon caught every one of them, wet kisses on wet cheeks. 

"You'll find someone like me," he said, placing a kiss on his temple. "You'll find someone who'll love you the way I would." 

And ever since then, they didn't kiss each other anymore. Not the way they used to, anyway. When they kissed each other before it was to tease and play and experiment. Now it was to comfort and console and greet each other good morning. Dowoon made Younghyun believe that he deserved love, that after chasing for so long, maybe he should just wait for it to come to him. 

That one day—

_"Well, let's see if you're just as big down there!"_

He'd find someone—

_"I'll ruin everything you love!"_

Who would love him—

_"Not the face!"_

And cherish him—

_"Like I'm stopping at the face!"_

The way—

_"Got you."_

Dowoon kissed him—

_"You got me."_

But it would be a long time before that happened. 

"Younghyun." 

Younghyun would just have to wait. 

"Younghyun, look at me." 

And wait, and keep waiting. 

"S-sorry, I guess I was just distracted—" 

Until someone takes him away. 

So for now Younghyun just closes his eyes and lets Dowoon take his breath away. 

He reaches up and wraps his arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer and kissing him back. Feels Dowoon run his fingers through his hair, and slowly push him down on the couch, TV still on. He kisses his lips and kisses his mouth, and Younghyun moans so much from the sensation. He feels Dowoon lightly tug on the fabric of the shirt he's wearing and feels him growl low.

"It's so hot you're wearing my shirt right now," he says, Younghyun letting out low moans at the bottom of his throat. "God, you smell like me, too." 

"Fucking stop talking." Younghyun pulls him closer and kisses him harder. "I don't wanna get pulled right now."

Younghyun lets out small whines and soft gasps, not having been kissed like this in a while, their last kiss being a peck on Dowoon's cheek. It sends him in a blaze, and the world starts to look blurry, not even noticing when Dowoon moved on to his neck. He just welcomes the feeling and lets himself succumb to it, the feeling of being pulled down into the depths of deep waters. 

That is, until he feels a pair of hands feel under his shirt and Younghyun suddenly breaks out of the surface, taking in a giant gulp of air. 

He pushes Dowoon off him and opens his eyes to see a pair of bewildered ones, Younghyun's palms on Dowoon's chest. 

"What are you doing?" Younghyun asks, as Dowoon retracts his hands to place beside him, now just half-caging him. 

"Just—wanted to try something." Dowoon shrugs, folding his arms and clasping his hands over Younghyun's chest, his own chest against it. "Was it bad?" 

"Of _course_ , it was bad. I—" Younghyun cuts his sentence short, feeling his claim to be… odd? He shakes his head. "Anyway, I've never been touched like that by a guy before."

"You've also never been _kissed_ by a guy before." Dowoon raises an eyebrow. 

"That's different!" Younghyun doesn't know why he's so defensive about it. Or why his cheeks are burning. Probably just the aftereffect of the kiss. "When we make out, it's just for fun, but if you touch me like that, I—" 

He thinks of the way his fingers felt for a moment, that fleeting, brief moment, where Younghyun immediately pushed Dowoon away—where he pushed him away because—

He doesn't answer for a while, just looks away with shifting eyes, furrowed eyebrows, and a perplexed look on his face, and eventually Dowoon breathes a sigh, a small smile placed on his face. 

"I get it, I get it," he says, patting his head and taking away the burden of answering. "You don't have to explain yourself. If you don't like it, you don't like it. I won't do it anymore." 

"Next time, you should give me a warning." Younghyun frowns, Dowoon still patting his hair. He doesn't usually do that, but… you know, it feels nice. "If you want to try something, you should give me a chance to gauge it." 

"Understood, Cap," Dowoon says with a grin, making a salute with two fingers. "Next time I'll rake my fingers across your body, I'll tell you." 

Younghyun sputters and covers his face with a hand in disbelief. 

"God, you are _really_ shameless today. Where the fuck did you get all that confidence?" 

"The aftermath of going through a near-death experience." Dowoon shrugs like it's no big deal. "Not everyone gets a second chance at life, so why hold back?" 

Younghyun reveals an eye. "Is that why you threw your old hoodie away and why you suddenly look like the reincarnation of Adonis?" 

"What are you talking about? I've always looked like this." Dowoon teases him. "Though, thank you for calling me hot." 

Younghyun scoffs and pushes him off for real this time, sitting up and fixing his shirt and hair, ignoring the look Dowoon's giving him. 

"Well, I'm glad you're confident now," though he says it with a roll of the eyes. "If you'd direct it to someone else, I'd appreciate it better." 

"Aw, but—" And Dowoon drapes an arm around him. "You're my favorite person. Who else should I show my new confidence to except you?" 

"I don't know. Maybe a _girlfriend_ —" 

The sound of someone moaning suddenly interrupts their dialogue again, and Younghyun turns to the TV to see the vampire man from the beginning of the movie currently fucking a different guy this time, on a bed made of red velvet, his bottom begging for him to go harder. 

" _Bite me, baby_ ," he cries, legs propped up and jerking with every movement. " _Turn me. I want to be with you for the rest of your immortal life._ "

" _But you deserve someone better._ " The man thrusts in him at a merciless pace, a grief-stricken expression hiding behind his shoulder. " _You deserve a mortal, someone you can grow up with. I'm just a vampire. I can't be human._ "

"You know, I was wondering about this earlier," Younghyun says to Dowoon, slightly leaning towards him as he watches that human get railed to sweet, sweet death. "You hate violence, and you fear porn, and this movie isn't part of my stash, so you couldn't have stolen it. Where the hell did you find this?" 

"I found it in some guy's open locker, so I stole that," Dowoon says, mimicking him as the vampire abruptly flips the human onto his knees and fucks him from behind, slapping his ass. "The plot intrigued me, so I thought we could watch it together." 

They continue to watch that human reach his climax as he begs for mercy, screaming his love for the vampire at the top of his lungs. 

"You changed a lot in three days," Younghyun concludes, watching the vampire place comforting kisses on the lips of his beloved. 

"I did," Dowoon replies, his arm draped over Younghyun's shoulder, watching that human smile and whisper how he'll always be his forever. 

They continue watching until the end of the movie, and in the end, the vampire turns his human lover, and they elope amidst the middle of war to live in a cottage high up in the mountains. They live in peace, far from the chaos below, and spend their days in bliss, far removed from the matters of the world. 

"What'd you think about that?" Younghyun asks, turning to Dowoon as the ending credits scroll down the screen. "Did you like the ending?" 

"Eh." Dowoon shrugs, then picks up the remote. "Makes me hope for something that won't happen."

He presses the power button, and the TV shuts off. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- yeah dowoon is kind of an asshole in this fic, but it's a plot device ok, and he's doing his best  
> \- there are a lot of typical tropes and stereotypes in this fic, and that's heavily because jennifer's body was a movie from 2009. this au is also set in 2009.  
> \- if you are cringing, that's a good sign


	4. Everything I See

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _For the next few days, Younghyun tries to adjust to Dowoon's newfound personality._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Description of Gore  
> Also random, but: Spoilers for Rick Riordan's The Lightning Thief!!

It's understandable that when your best friend of thirteen years suddenly disappears and comes back with a whole new personality, you would want to keep a list of the before and the after. Younghyun definitely does. And he's classified it into three categories:

(1) _Physical_. Which talks about Dowoon's hair, Dowoon's face, and Dowoon's overall body and fashion;

(2) _Preferences._ Which talks about Dowoon's interests, his likes and dislikes, and whether he'd be willing to drive an hour out of town just to check on the latest merchandise for his favorite movie franchise; and

(3) _Personality._ Which talks about the way Dowoon speaks, the way Dowoon acts, the way Dowoon jokes, and the way Dowoon laughs. 

Let's start with _Physical_. 

Tuesday. 

"You know I was wondering how I never noticed that you were ripped, but I just realized how much your hoodies cover you," Younghyun said in the morning, before they went to school, standing by Dowoon's dresser, wearing his hoodie and lifting his arms. "I look like a walking paper sheet—no one would even tell if I had abs or pregnant with a baby." 

Dowoon glanced at him from where he was putting a shirt on, covering his own abs but exposing his arm muscles, the ripped jeans on his legs exposing the skin on his thighs. 

"You should try out my clothes more often," he said, black hair cut short and flattering, eyes with a hint of gold, as if the sun was forever shining upon his face. "I think they suit you very well." 

"Nah. I'm only borrowing today." Younghyun took that hoodie off and looked at Dowoon, his shoulders bare. "Have your eyes always been that color? They look a little brighter, like how they do when you look at the sky." 

"Well, aren't you poetic," Dowoon said, watching Younghyun dress himself with one of his t-shirts again. "I think my heart skipped a beat for a moment. Wanna elope and get married and have a thousand kids?" 

Younghyun threw Dowoon's hoodie at him as his cackles resounded in the room. 

"We're both _men_ , we can't _have_ kids—and adopting a thousand sounds like a nightmare." Younghyun huffed and finished putting Dowoon's shirt on. It was a simple one, with a picture of a band printed on the fabric. It was a popular one, so it wouldn't seem out-of-place if Younghyun wore it. Dowoon shrugged. 

"Then, we'll just fuck a thousand times to make up for it." 

A lamp found its way almost crashing into Dowoon's face, and Dowoon wouldn't stop teasing him for it, even as they walked into school. 

Next. _Preferences._

Wednesday. 

"—and then I was all like, 'How can someone steal lightning?' And long story short: I'm kind of a fan right now," a random guy said as he sat beside Dowoon on their lunch table, cozying up to him, crossing his legs and batting his eyelashes. 

Younghyun watched with a burger going in his mouth as Dowoon faced the guy with a patronizing smile. 

"Wow," he said, nodding his head as that guy smiled at him. "So, what did you think when Luke turned out to be a traitor?" 

That guy continued to smile at him and breathed out a laughter, squinting his eyes. 

"Well. I haven't actually. Read it yet," he said, already standing up from the table and going away. "I'll get back to you on that. See you in Calc!" 

That guy walked away in a flurry of embarrassed shame, and Younghyun snorted, almost spitting out his food as Dowoon turned back to face him, seated across him on the table. 

"I cannot believe that guy tried to flirt with you by pretending he was into that book you liked," he said, shaking his head, as Dowoon took a sip from his cup. "I mean, I don't really know much about it, but it was kind of obvious he was just trying to get into your pants." 

"Even if he did read every single book and somehow got the last one, which I think is gonna come out sometime May," Dowoon said, picking up a tater tot and popping it in his mouth, "it wouldn't really do much either. That series is bullshit." 

Younghyun hadn't read that book either, but he still sort of felt that he needed to defend it. "You've been shitting on every interest you've had ever since you returned from Devil's Peak." He finished his burger and grabbed a piece of tissue paper to wipe his fingers. "There's gotta be _something_ you used to like that you still like now." 

At that, Dowoon stared at him, tilting his head a little, and when he didn't answer for a few seconds, 

"What?" Younghyun asked, wiping his face, lips shiny from the oil. "Don't tell me there isn't anything left." 

Dowoon shrugged and turned away, propping his cheek up on a knuckle. 

"I still like your cooking." And Younghyun grinned at that. 

"Then, I'll make your favorite tonight," he said. "We'll have a feast." 

Lastly, _Personality_. 

Thursday. 

"Ugh, the quiz today was so fucking hard. If I get a D, I'm lucky." Younghyun flopped down on his bed, body bouncing in the air for just a millisecond, before propping himself up and watching Dowoon make paper airplanes out of his notebooks. 

Younghyun asked, "Don't you have homework today?" as he pulled himself up and sat cross-legged, Dowoon's own legs propped up on Younghyun's desk. "I heard one of the guys complaining about the amount of reports they're making you do." 

"Eh. I'll do it in the weekend." Dowoon flung that airplane in the air, sending it swirling and twirling until it landed square in Younghyun's lap. Perfectly. _How_. "Even if I get a failing grade this semester, I'll still pass, so. Who cares." 

Younghyun blinked as he took that paper airplane in his hands, playing with it absentmindedly. 

"Weren't you vying for a perfect 4.0?" he questioned, noticing that there seemed to be some writing on that airplane, and so he started unravelling it. 

"Who cares if you have a perfect 4.0? It doesn't guarantee you getting a job, and the education system's whack, anyway." He leaned back on his chair, balancing it on its two hind legs. "I'd only do it since a higher academic reputation means more job opportunities. And better jobs means more money. Who gives a shit about the learning." 

Younghyun kept his eyes on him as he fully opened that paper airplane. It was a crude sketch of Younghyun sitting in a classroom, half-baked but not ugly. Younghyun raised an eyebrow and directed it to the boy across him, and Dowoon gave him a smirk in return. 

"I saw you taking that quiz you talked about, while I was walking in the halls, ditching class," he said. "You looked nice. You didn't even notice me. Also, don't worry—your answers were a solid B." 

Younghyun took extra care to analyze just how different Dowoon had become, and he concluded in the end that Dowoon changed, on average, sixty percent. Twenty percent on the Physical, forty percent in Preferences, and ninety percent in Personality. That last one felt like the biggest loss because Younghyun loved the old, shy Dowoon who used to hold onto his jacket as they walked down the halls, or duck his face under the covers in embarrassment when Younghyun teased him. Now, Dowoon was draping his arm around Younghyun in the halls, smacking his ass in public, cackling out loud, and teasing Younghyun to the point of mortification. He never did anything that was really out-of-line, and if Younghyun said he was uncomfortable, he would stop. But he was definitely unlike the old Dowoon he was used to, and he wasn't sure if he liked the way his newfound boldness shaped him. 

Still, either way, Dowoon _seemed_ to be having the time of his life, and Younghyun wasn't one to dictate how one's personality should be like. He could only hope that one day he'd finally get used to it, or maybe Dowoon would finally go back to the way he usually was. 

And so, he waits. 

Friday. 

Younghyun and Dowoon are walking side-by-side in the school halls, having just arrived in Younghyun's car. Younghyun, in particular, is shaking and profusely sweating. 

"Why did I let you drive again I knew it was wrong but I still let it happen," Younghyun chants in a straight, monotone voice, rubbing his own arms, trying to comfort himself. 

Dowoon just cackles, that arm on his shoulder like it's attached there, and shakes his head, ruffling Younghyun's hair. 

"Because you know in your heart that you can't say no to me," he says as the two of them reach Younghyun's locker, watching as the latter shakily unlocks it. He leans beside it and crosses his arms. "One of these days, I'm gonna ask you to do something you really don't like, and you're gonna say yes regardless, because you're just too in lo—" 

"Hey, there, Dowoon. You're looking fine today." 

Younghyun abruptly turns to see the devil in disguise and promptly straightens his face into a deadpan, slamming his locker door open and listening in on the conversation. 

"Thanks," Dowoon replies, looking down at Younghyun's ex-girlfriend, the one who lasted five months. "You're looking great today, too." 

"I've been sending you a couple texts these past few days," she says as Younghyun makes faces, rolling his eyes. "You never replied." 

"Oh, sorry," Dowoon says, sounding sheepish. "I thought they were for someone else. If I knew it wasn't a wrong send, I would have replied." 

"Oh, come on. Why would it be a wrong send?" Younghyun mentally rolls his eyes. "You know everyone's been wanting to talk to you after you threw away that restricting hoodie of yours. And _I_ want to be friends with you. Don't you wanna be friends with me?" 

"It'd be weird to hang out with my best friend's ex-girlfriend when I didn't know you before you guys broke up, wouldn't it? Besides. You cheated on him." 

"Oh, please. That's all in the past. Isn't it, Younghyun, darling?" 

"Yeah. Sure. Whatever. Fuck you to death." Younghyun waves a hand. 

"So, you see, there's nothing wrong with it. And I'm just here to invite you to my party. It's tomorrow night, at my house, the bigger one, by the lakeside—" _Jesus fucking christ._ "You have to come, okay? It won't be the same without you." 

"I'll think about it," Dowoon says, and Younghyun slams his locker. "See you in first period." 

"See you in first period." She waves at him goodbye and walks away with a sway in her hips, and Dowoon shakes his head. 

"She touched my fucking arm," he says, turning to the boy next to him. "She kept feeling it. How did she even get my nu—Younghyun?" 

Younghyun had already started walking away from him, books in his hand, hands in two fists, an obvious fire in the way he stomped his feet.

"Hey—Younghyun! Wait up!" Dowoon catches up to him and drapes an arm around him. "What's wrong? Why are you angry?" 

"I'm not angry. Nothing's wrong," Younghyun says, everything wrong. "I'm just glad that it seems you'll finally get your first girlfriend now. A tip from me: She hates seafood." 

Dowoon lets out a laugh, sounding relieved, and goes back to ruffling Younghyun's hair, amused. 

"Younghyun, I'm not gonna date her. I don't even like her—she kept touching my _arm_ —" 

"But she sure as fuck likes _you_ ," Younghyun spits, not daring to look at him. "She's gonna send you away and kiss you under fairy lights and take you to fucking Texas—where the _fuck_ even is that?" 

Younghyun feels Dowoon press his temple against his as they continue walking. 

"I get that you're not over her, but you seriously don't have to worry," he says, voice taking a consoling tone. "I'll never have feelings for her. I'm pretty sure of that." 

Younghyun sighs, finally coaxed. "It's not that I'm not over her—I'm _completely_ over her, even though she _really_ knows the right way to press my buttons." He shakes his head. "I just—I just don't like how she was all over you. Like she can just get whatever she wants just 'cause she wants it." 

It takes Dowoon a beat before replying to that, like he hesitated for a second. 

"Well, in any case, you can be assured that she won't ever have me," Dowoon says, and Younghyun glances at him. "No matter how much she wants me. Only you can have me." 

Younghyun _pfft_ s at that and goes to punch him in the arm, the gloom blown away. 

"God, you are unbelievable," he says, shaking his head. "You just can't stop teasing me for a second. You should save that for someone you actually like—I guarantee they'll fall head over heels in an instant." 

They reach Younghyun's classroom, and he turns around to bid Dowoon goodbye—only to find him staring, leaning against the door frame. 

"You promise you guarantee that?" Dowoon says, golden eyes looking straight at his brown ones. 

"Guarantee what? That people will fall for you if you use your one-liners on them?" Younghyun shrugs. He was mostly joking when he said that. "Yeah. I mean—you even got my ex to fall for you, so." 

Dowoon just continues to stare at him with those crossed arms, and the way he does makes Younghyun's squirm a little. 

"Uh…" he says, glancing away and glancing back. "Are you just gonna stand there, or…?" 

Dowoon eventually resigns and removes himself from the wall, walking past him and ruffling his hair. Again. 

"See you at lunch, Younghyun," he says, resolving nothing. "I'll save you a seat." 

Younghyun ends up blinking a bit, wondering why he was—

_Smack!_ Dowoon fucking slaps his ass, and Younghyun whips a red face towards him, looking at that little shit in full view, he and that _stupid fucking smirk_. 

"Sorry, couldn't help myself." Dowoon winks at him as Younghyun sputters. "You just have the world's cutest ass." 

Younghyun just stomps his foot and walks in the room as the few witnesses snicker and whisper among themselves, his entire face and neck burning like hot coal. 

_World's cutest ass, my ass!_ Younghyun thinks to himself, getting his stuff out from his bag in a flustered frenzy. You're _the world's_ biggest _ass, you teasing little fucking shit!_

He just starts the period with an obvious temper to his face, huffing and scoffing every now and then. 

_And here I thought he looked a bit down—Dowoon can stay miserable for the rest of his life!_

Younghyun looks down at his textbook in the library, the rest of his class and his teacher seated on tables or at least somewhere around him. They were assigned to go out of the classroom that period, for no other reason than, "We have to use the library _some_ time," according to his teacher. She said that, but Younghyun's pretty sure she just wanted to flirt with the lady on the counter over there, leaning on the wood with her elbows propped on it. 

"So. You come here often?" Younghyun pretends she's saying. He can't actually hear the conversation. 

"I work here," the lady clerk replies, and her deadpan eyes fit the dialogue perfectly. 

Younghyun snickers and leans back on his chair, casually flipping through his textbook and briefly eyeing every image. They're supposed to be searching through books to look for answers to a set of questions, but who are we kidding: everyone's gone off and started gossiping or playing games and some of them are sneakily eating food. Even Younghyun is just looking at the pretty pictures in his book. Walruses surprisingly can be really majestic. 

As he looks upon a photo of a walrus slapping another walrus, he accidentally catches a part of a conversation taking place behind his back. 

"—ure it's alright if… join?... ean, if it bothers y… don't have t… this." 

"... It's alr… Matt was my friend. If it hel… closure… tell you everything." 

That last phrase and the name "Matt" makes Younghyun raise an eyebrow, and he discreetly moves his chair a bit further back, just to hear the conversation clearer. 

"Well, we definitely appreciate your help," Person A says, in a formal manner. "Since you were directly tied to the victim, the information you provide would be significantly more helpful than anyone else's." 

Younghyun thinks that this voice is familiar, but isn't sure who it is. 

"Hey. Don't just call his friend 'victim' like that!" Younghyun labels this one as Person B. "It's fine if we're on our own, but it's kind of insensitive if we're with a guy who actually knew him."

_You say as you are still with that exact same guy._ "It's okay, you guys," says Person C. "At this point, I just want some closure. It doesn't make sense that Matt just died like that. And died… like _that_. I wanna help you guys in your investigation." 

Younghyun realizes that the person speaking is one of the guys in the popular crowd, one of the jocks, a brunette jock, though Younghyun doesn't know his name. He puts two-and-two together and realizes Person A is that blond nerd from before, and Person B must be that goth boy.

"Well, to start off, I suppose," the blond nerd says, "why don't you tell us a bit more about Matteo? For us who didn't know him well." 

"Well, he was my best friend. We've been friends since middle school. He was always the type to go out of his way to help people, a big environmentalist. A philanthropist. He _wanted_ to be a philanthropist when he grew up, and he was the kindest person I knew. I don't think there was anyone in this school who hated him, and if there was, they were probably a jerk to everyone else, too."

Younghyun discreetly opens his bag as he listens, and carefully extracts a piece of folded paper from the inner pockets. He opens it to reveal that flyer he got from that nerd boy a few days ago and scans over it as he listens. 

"I see. And I assume you read the news article and know exactly what the news said about his death?" 

"Yeah, it said that he was mauled by a bear or a wolf in Highway Forest, and that he died sometime in the weekend. But that doesn't make sense. Matt shouldn't have been anywhere _near_ Highway Forest, _especially_ if it's in the weekend." 

Younghyun looks over the list of descriptives detailing the way Matteo's body was found: bite marks that looked like they were made by monstrous fangs, trailing from the neck to the arms to the chest, primarily on his left side. His entire belly was disemboweled, with none of the guts left inside, except for half a heart. But despite the damage to the upper part of his body, his lower part was bite-free, with only a pattern of bruises on his thighs and his rear side. It seemed as if whoever did this to him had a penchant for the chest and neck, having ripped that flesh off his body, with parts of the bone exposed. There was nothing that could've served as a murder weapon in the area, and he was found on a stump of a tree, a pool of blood surrounding him, dried. 

That goth boy seems to be furrowing his eyebrows. "Why wouldn't he be at Highway Forest?" 

"Because his parents are _way_ overprotective of him. He almost drowned in that lake by Highway Forest back in middle school, and his parents never let him out of his sight since. He constantly has to send texts every hour just so they'd know where he is. And they never let him do anything unless they're given a detailed recounting. In the weekends, he's not allowed to leave the house, and his friends have to be approved by his parents if they want to hang over. How can a guy who's been caged by his parents for five years suddenly just… and at Highway Forest, no less. Highway Forest is the number one place he can't go to, so it doesn't make sense that he was found there. I don't know how his parents would've let him go out that time. God, and I was on the phone with him, too…"

Younghyun leans his chair back a little more, wanting to hear more of the conversation. 

But he leans back too far, and the chair loses balance, and Younghyun lets out a yelp, praying to the heavens that he

doesn't fall. 

Younghyun opens one eye—he had inadvertently shut both—and looks up to see a familiar face, a pair of lips letting out a breath. 

"Caught you," Dowoon says, placing his chair back in the right position. 

"You caught me," Younghyun affirms with a breath, and Dowoon takes a chair and sits right on it. 

"What are you doing here? Don't you have class?" Younghyun asks, heart still palpitating from the close call. 

"I was passing through the library when I saw you and your class 'studying'," Dowoon answers. Younghyun glances at his back to see that trio having moved to a different table, possibly to discuss somewhere more private. "Thought I'd go and surprise you, but turns out you were out here playing with death." He pushes up a cheek. "Why _were_ you playing with death?" 

Younghyun peeks at his teacher still flirting with that clerk, wondering if she would notice the stray student in her midst. 

"Your teacher's whipped for the librarian. She isn't going to stop talking to her until class ends." 

Younghyun turns back to him and shrugs, leaning back. 

"I was eavesdropping on a conversation talking about the Matteo Biscocho case." He nudges his head towards the table that trio is seated at now. "That nerd and that goth just got recently joined by one of the jocks. All they need is a prep now, I guess. Ha." He frowns. "Wait." 

Dowoon squints his eyes as Younghyun realizes that the supposed "prep" is already dead. 

"You shouldn't eavesdrop on other people's conversations," he chides, looking serious. "Didn't I tell you that what they're doing is insensitive?" 

"Yeah, but it seems like they're doing it for good reason. And the brunette jock was Matteo's best friend. I think he of all people gets the right to investiga—" 

" _No one_ gets the right to investigate this case, alright?" Dowoon suddenly snaps. "The case is _closed_ , he died last _Friday_ , and his parents _deserve_ to not be constantly reminded that their son is _gone_." 

Younghyun takes a step back at Dowoon's tone, surprised that he's so affronted by it. 

"I was just saying," he says, after a beat. "Why are you so pressed over th—" 

"Why are _you_ so concerned about some other guy's death?" Dowoon glares at him, raising his voice, not letting him have a moment to speak. 

Younghyun takes a moment. Then, when he speaks it's with a flat tone. 

"Because it could've been _your_ death," he says. "When you were gone for three days and I heard that a Perry Berry senior died in Highway Forest, I thought it was you. I was just thinking that if I was in that jock's shoes, and _my_ best friend got mauled by a fucking bear, I would've done the same as him. I was just saying."

Younghyun turns away and silently goes back to his textbook, flipping to another page. He sees a walrus with his trainer's head stuck halfway in his mouth. He doesn't laugh. 

He feels a pair of arms wrap around his torso. 

"I'm sorry," Dowoon says, voice muffled against his shirt. It's like that time he apologized to Younghyun last Monday. Except Younghyun isn't consoling him anymore. "I didn't know you were thinking about it like that. I'm sorry."

Younghyun doesn't even look at him. 

"It's only been four days since you last returned," he says, refusing to give in as he flips onto another page. A walrus is sitting up like a human. "And we've already fought more than we have in thirteen years." 

"I promise I won't do it anymore. I swear on my pinky finger that I won't fight with you anymore." 

And Dowoon actually pulls out a pinky finger for Younghyun to link, right in front of his walrus. And Younghyun turns to look at him, face in a deadpan. 

"You haven't initiated a pinky swear since seventh grade," he says, remembering dewey grass, a tall tree, and a swing set in a summer morning. 

"I'm initiating one now," Dowoon says, keeping that pinky out, straight. "I, Dowoon Yoon, swear to not snap at my best friend, Younghyun Kang, ever again." 

Younghyun Kang rolls his eyes and scoffs, hoping that no one has caught sight of this ridiculous display. 

"And _you_ —" Dowoon takes Younghyun's pinky to wrap in his own— "Younghyun Kang, promise to hit me over the head if your best friend, Dowoon Yoon, dares to break his promise." 

He sighs. 

"You know, the fact that you moved my pinky means that I don't consent to this, right?" 

"You can still let go." Dowoon shrugs. "It doesn't have to be permanent." 

Yet Younghyun tightens his grip instead. Because the look in Dowoon's eyes reminds him of the boy he knew yesterday. 

"I promise," he says, and Dowoon grins. "But if you go back on your word, it's not just the promise that'll be broken."

"Got it." Dowoon leans on the table, looking up at Younghyun while their pinkies are still linked. "Also. I didn't just come here to surprise you, either. Your ex-girlfriend kept egging me to say yes to her party invitation."

"Ugh." Younghyun rolls his eyes, releasing their pinkies. "And here I thought you were trying to make amends." 

Dowoon takes back his pinky and continues, "I told her I wouldn't go unless you went with me." 

Younghyun glances. "And what did she say to that?"

Dowoon waggles his eyebrows. 

"That if you came with me, it would ruin her entire night." 

A smirk slowly travels up his lips. 

"Pick me up at eight." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- if you haven't noticed, the titles of each chapter are lyrics from panic! at the disco's [new perspective](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d3sA5plF6kE), which was the ost for jennifer's body  
> \- it was a song that i didn't even know was the ost to smth, eight-year-old me just loved listening to it as well as staring at megan fox for reasons she didn't know why at the time  
> \- *whispers to childhood me* you're sapphic


	5. Crash Against My Skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Younghyun attends his ex's party for what is supposed to be a good night._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Referenced Forced Kidnapping, Homophobia, Threat of Outing  
> NSFW: Making Out, Groping (With Verbal Permission), Grinding

Saturday night couldn't have come sooner, with Younghyun putting the final touches to his hair and standing in front of his mirror with a grin on his face. He's just remembering the exact details of Dowoon's conversation with his ex that Dowoon recalled to him yesterday, leading to their attendance tonight. 

"It was just after lunch, before the teacher even entered," Dowoon narrated as Younghyun cooked dinner in a pot. "She was seated beside me and we talked for a while, and she kept letting me know that she was into me." 

'You know, I have to be honest with you,' she said, twirling her wavy hair around her finger and eyeing Dowoon up and down, not even hiding it, ‘before, when you were still in that loser garb, hiding your face, and avoiding everyone, I thought you were just another one of those background wallflowers. You know, the ones that don’t really matter. But I can see now.’ She smiled. ‘You were just a treasure in disguise.’

“She had her hand on my arm the entire time—hey.” Dowoon turned to Younghyun as he sat on the kitchen counter with his arms crossed. “Did she like to touch your arm, too?”

“She’s admiring your muscles,” Younghyun said, stirring the white soup in his pot. “Anyway, continue.”

‘Oh, so just because I’m hot now,’ Dowoon raised an eyebrow, ‘you’re giving me attention?’

She laughed. ‘I know it may seem shallow, but I have to hold myself to a certain standard. After all—’ Her eyes glinted. ‘I only deserve the best.’

“So, why the fuck did she even go out with me, then?” Younghyun almost spilled his soup with the way he dunked the ladle in. “Was that guy her fucking ‘best’? Was I just the ‘best’ of the school? But when she met him, I was now _second_ -best?”

Dowoon placed a consoling hand on his shoulder. “Let it go, Younghyun. Let it go.”

‘Well, then you’d know that the best comes at a high price.’ Dowoon gave her a knowing smile, cocking an eyebrow up. ‘I don’t just give myself up to anyone.’

‘Uh-huh.’ She leaned in close. ‘And what price, pray tell, do I have to buy you for?’

Dowoon smiled.

‘Younghyun.’

The smile on her face immediately dropped.

‘Younghyun?’ she repeated. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I want him,’ he said, ‘to be at your party.’

She took her hand off his arm and gave him an affronted look.

‘Did Younghyun put you up to this?’ she asked. ‘Don’t tell me he’s putting his reins on you—’

‘Nothing like that at all, no.’ Dowoon shook his head. ‘It’s my own choice. If he’s not there, I don’t want to be there, either. Where he goes, I go. It’s how I work.’

She let out a scoff in disbelief, lips turning up unamused. 

‘Well, I’m not _letting_ him at my party,’ she said, stubborn. ‘If he’s there, he—’ 

She suddenly looked him up and down, like she was remembering something.

She turned away, shaking her head. 

‘Like I’d let my ex-boyfriend go to my party,’ she said.

‘Come on. Didn’t you say that the party wouldn’t be the same without me? Then, it only matters if I’m there. What matters if I bring a plus-one?’

‘What matters is that your plus-one is your best friend.’ She glared at him, that flirtatious pretense blown away. ‘And I know him in matters that he probably hasn’t told you yet—understandably. Even I wouldn’t tell you, if I was him. If he’s there, he'll—’

‘He’ll what?’ Dowoon pressed. ‘Steal something? Eat too much? Take over your kitchen—’

‘He’ll ruin everything!’ she finally burst out, making the other students in the classroom suddenly turn to her, surprised.

She glanced around, conscious of the people looking at her, then turned to look at Dowoon.

He was smiling.

‘All the more reason, then,’ he said, ‘to bring him there.’

“After that, she wouldn’t talk to me anymore,” Dowoon finished, watching the amused smile on Younghyun’s face, a smile also forming on his own lips, “and the teacher came in so she had no chance to. And I was bored, so I ditched class when he came out to get something from the teacher’s lounge, and I ran into you. I thought it was a good idea to go crash that party with you, if it would ruin her night. And I had a feeling you’d want to do that, too.”

“Well, you’d be right on that. But still—she didn’t take back her invite?” Younghyun questioned, turning off the stove and getting a tasting spoon. “It’s her party, after all.”

“Actually, it isn’t.” Younghyun took a spoonful of his soup as Dowoon spoke. “It turns out that the party is held at her house, but the one hosting it is her cousin. I think he’s one of the jocks, or something? I have no idea who anyone at this school is.”

“Ugh, yeah. I know him. He’s a complete douche—nothing even _she_ likes him.” Younghyun shook his head, then took another spoonful, frowning. “I guess that means _he_ was the one who wanted you to be at his party, and _she_ was the one who wanted to invite you personally. God, everyone is just clamoring over you now, aren’t they?”

“It’s funny because they used to push me on the lockers and trip me in the halls.”

“And dunk mayonnaise in your bag and throw soda in your face.”

“Good looks are a kind of power in this high school.” Dowoon suddenly placed a hand on Younghyun’s chin, as if checking his face out. “Guess why you’d never been bullied.”

Younghyun blushed and swatted that hand away, almost dropping his tasting spoon in the soup. 

“Please. The only reason is because I was the type to fight back,” he said, getting his third spoonful and blowing on it. “You were an easy target because you made yourself look weak. 'Course, it doesn't mean it was your _fault_.”

He directed the spoon to Dowoon’s lips. 

“Tell me if it tastes weird,” he said, and Dowoon accepted it. 

“It tastes delicious,” he complimented, eyes on Younghyun’s frown. 

“Really? I feel like it needs more salt.” Younghyun went over to grab the bottle.

“Not really,” Dowoon said, turning to the front with a smile on his face. “I like that it’s sweet.”

Afterwards, they finished their milk chicken macaroni soup and decided on how exactly they should enter that party.

“Should we do that thing where you’re fashionably late?” Younghyun asked as Dowoon picked up their bowls and plates, stacking them to bring over to the sink. “Or would it be a bigger fuck you to go there early?”

“As long as your ex sees that you and I are together, it doesn’t matter—we should probably shove that into her face.” Dowoon took Younghyun’s bowl and put it at the top of the stack. “They do say that living well is the best revenge, so—”

He put his lips close to Younghyun’s ear.

“Wear something cute, okay?”

Younghyun can still feel the burn from that one-liner as he looks at the mirror now, having dressed himself in a white shirt, a leather jacket, and a pair of ripped jeans, plus a pair of boots. He doesn’t know why, but after being told to “dress cute”, he’s been standing and staring at his outfit all day, wondering if it was flattering enough. And normally, this would be typical of him as Younghyun _is_ known to care way too much about his appearance, but for some reason he’s feeling a little extra antsy, even though his brain is telling him he looks fine. He isn’t even wearing anything too attention-grabbing; this is something you’d see him wear on a normal occasion. But why does it feel like it isn’t flattering enough, that his thighs are too big, that maybe he should’ve gone for a pair of black jeans instead of blue, or maybe the leather jacket was a bit too much—

“Stop worrying over your outfit—you look _fine_. In fact, you look hot.”

Younghyun raises his eyes to the ceiling and regrets ever giving Dowoon that spare key.

“You have seriously got to stop randomly appearing out of nowhere—” he turns— “What if a burglar comes and I think it’s—”

Younghyun stops himself in the middle of his sentence, finding himself staring at Dowoon. He’s wearing his usual all-black ensemble today, a black t-shirt, a black pair of jeans, even a pair of black shoes, but for some reason, with Dowoon standing there, leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed, Younghyun starts to internalize something that had already been obvious when he came back to school that morning.

_Dowoon…_

_looks really good in a black t-shirt._

“You should take a picture. It’ll last longer,” Dowoon says, the little shit, and Younghyun snaps out of it to throw the nearest thing at him. It turns out to be a comb.

“I see you every day. Not like I wanna immortalize you.” He approaches him and notices something new hanging around Dowoon's neck.

“Are you wearing a cross?” he asks, picking the necklace up and holding it between his hands, turning it over and feeling the metal surface. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear one before. Didn’t think you believed in that.”

“I don’t,” Dowoon says, shrugging and letting Younghyun fiddle with his necklace. “I’m wearing it to be ironic. I found it in that shop near The Last Supper, the one selling knock-off goods. This one cost like two dollars, while _this_ one cost ten.”

He presents something right in front of Younghyun’s eyes, and he sees that it’s a dangling earring, with a cross hanging off a small hoop. It’s a lot better in quality than his necklace; the prices can attest to that.

“Woah, this one’s cool,” Younghyun says, receiving it and holding it up, looking at the little details. The cross is dotted with little gems. “I don’t really believe in that stuff either, but this is definitely eye-candy.”

“You like it?” Dowoon grins. “It’s yours.”

“Huh?” Younghyun looks at him, surprised. “No way—it’s yours. You bought it yourself.”

“Yeah, for _you_. I just wanted to see if you’d like it.”

“But it’s a lot better than your necklace…”

Dowoon just shakes his head and chuckles. 

“Stop being such a baby, and just let me put it on you,” he says, taking the earring from Younghyun’s hands and removing the stud earring that used to sit on his left earlobe. “If I had the money, I’d buy you anything you want. In fact, I should just ask Mom to give me a shit ton just to spend on you.”

Younghyun feels the small ring of metal slip in the piercing hole, tickling him a bit since this is the first time someone’s put an earring on him. He glances up to see Dowoon concentrated, and the boy pulls away when he seals the lock.

“There,” he says, looking over him and smiling, satisfied with his work. “Now, we match.”

Younghyun self-consciously fiddles with the cross hanging by his left shoulder, and then self-consciously looks up at Dowoon, who’s still staring at him. 

“You always did like giving me gifts,” he comments off-handedly, shifting in his boots, remembering the comb he threw, the countless little things that littered his room. 

“As did you.” Dowoon goes over to wrap an arm around Younghyun’s shoulder, the cross around his neck following his movement. 

“Now, come on—let’s go crash this party.”

While Willowsbury itself is a small town snooze, its elite tenants and rich households aren’t something to sneeze at. 

These are the people with giant houses, tall mansions well within forests, and who think that they’re above everyone else in Willowsbury just because they’re richer. They buy themselves cars, wear the latest trends, and basically bring the outside goods into Willowsbury. 

If you looked at their estate, you’d never think that Willowsbury is a small town, what with all the fancy jewelry, the modern construction, and the high technology. 

It makes you wonder why they stay in such a small town, when it’s obvious that they can afford to go somewhere bigger.

Then, again if they left, they probably wouldn’t be so big anymore. A kitten among ants is a giant, after all. Younghyun shakes his head as he closes his car door.

He looks up at that house that’s currently booming with loud music. If it wasn’t so far from the main neighborhood, there would’ve been complaints all over:

Founded upon an uphill slope, the house is ginormous, made of rocked walls, wooden beams, and glass windows revealing the party inside. There’s a slope going down where entering cars would drive through and where a cemented yard overlooked the forest lake in the distance. With gable roofs and a vertical structure characteristic of a house in the mountains, it looks more like a hotel than it does a house. Younghyun doesn’t need to expound more on the interior; he’s already been here countless times before.

He feels the permanent arm drape itself across his shoulders and turns to look at the boy next to him, giving him a smile.

“Wanna make this the best night ever?” he asks, and Younghyun laughs.

“‘The best night ever’ is a cursed phrase.” He leads him forward. “Let’s go.”

The moment they walk in they’re immediately bombarded with the sound of loud party music, Younghyun immediately knowing that this party isn’t hosted by his ex. It’s way too rowdy, way too Out There, and there are way too many drunk teenagers just yelling and hollering all over. A party hosted by her would be a lot less reckless and a lot classier, but lucky for Younghyun, this is just his scene.

He places a hand beside his mouth and yells at the top of his lungs:

“YOUNGHYUN KANG IS IN THE HOUSE!”

And immediately the room erupts in cheers.

He’s met with guys going over to clobber him, countless people greeting and winking as he passes by, and people sending him, “Glad you made it!”s and “Your outfit is killing it!”s and “That new earring is really your style!”s, with him returning them with compliments of his own.

“Man, I knew you were popular, but I didn’t think you were this popular,” Dowoon says, walking beside him with a chuckle as someone hands him a drink and he passes it to Younghyun. 

“Please, the people know me for the way I am at parties.” Younghyun downs that red cup in one go. “At school, there’s no way I can be me.”

He gets another cup and downs it again, feeling the liquid burn his throat in a way that makes him crumple his face in delight.

“I thank God for giving me high tolerance for alcohol,” he says with a grin, then pulls Dowoon by the hand. “Come on, let’s see if they have anything non-alcoholic.”

They reach the long table filled with snacks and drinks, and Younghyun makes sure to check each one if it’s secretly filled with something.

“Oh, no, these brownies have weed, and—damn, is this _just_ champagne? Rich people are on a whole ‘nother level. Ah, here—” Younghyun hands Dowoon a cup of orange liquid. “Someone was kind enough to offer Fanta.”

Dowoon checks him out for a moment with a smile before taking that cup in his hands.

“You really have a lot of experience with stuff like this,” he says, swirling that orange liquid around as if amused by the movement. “Sometimes I forget it’s all you do in the weekends.”

Younghyun’s about to rebuke him and tell him it’s not all he does in the weekends, when he feels someone drape an arm around his shoulder.

“Younghyun Kang! So good to see you at my house party tonight,” a voice smelling of beer says right next to his face, and Younghyun pulls a fake grin before returning the gesture.

“Glad to be here! You did a great job hosting this party,” he says, then he hears a snort coming from the other side.

“As if. If I didn’t let him use my bigger house, he’d have nothing to host a party for.” The sentence was partnered with a look of disdain.

The pair that just approached them were none other than the host of the party and the owner of the house, Younghyun’s ex’s cousin and Younghyun’s ex. While Younghyun’s ex was pretty with a sharp edge, her cousin was handsome with a soft look, though Younghyun knows he is anything but.

“I can’t believe you _actually_ went to this party,” Younghyun’s ex says with a roll of the eyes, her usual flirty flare gone in the wind. “When you know what I have on you.”

“I only went here so Dowoon could go here,” he says with a shrug, taking a sip from his cup. “You wanna be all lovey-dovey with him? Then go ahead.”

She scoffs. “As if. I’m smarter than that.” She walks away with a look towards Dowoon, then huffs and sashays away. She goes to a group of girls who welcome her, one of them blushing when she arrives.

“Wow, it’s definitely that time of the month for her.” And both Younghyun and Dowoon turn to glare at the boy who is still here, apparently. See what I mean. “Anyway, as much as I love you, Younghyun—no homo—tonight, I wanna steal someone _else_ away—no homo.”

He drapes an arm around Dowoon’s shoulders—no homo.

“I want to see what this newborn hotshot is made of,” he says, light brown hair swaying a little as he nudges Dowoon to the kitchen. 

“Uh.” Dowoon glances at Younghyun, who takes like two more shots. “Thanks, but I don’t really—”

“Come _on_ now, Dowoon!” The host of the party jabs a finger at his chest, like an asshole. “You’ve been a wallflower for way too long! You need to do something _fun_ for once—you’re one of us now.”

Dowoon actually laughs. “Sorry, but I don’t really remember agreeing—”

“What is it, man? Is it the crowd? Is it the loud music? Is it the alcohol—we’ve got Fanta for a reason!”

Dowoon glances back at Younghyun who looks back at him, eyes on the cross dangling on his ear.

Younghyun gets the look and breathes out a laugh, nudging his cup in his direction.

“He’s right, Dowoon. You should try new things out, see what you don’t like.” He grabs a chicken wing from the side. “Just don’t do anything dangerous, and if you wanna get out, I’m just right here.”

He takes a bite out of that chicken wing and gestures for Dowoon to go, and Dowoon is pulled away with a reluctant face and an asshole hanging off his shoulder.

“God, Younghyun is such a mother hen. Why the fuck do you even keep him?”

“If you insult him one more time, I’m going to knee you in the balls.”

“A true man!” He pats him on the back. “I like you already—no homo.”

Younghyun just shakes his head and hopes his ex’s cousin won’t be a bad influence on him, then takes another chicken wing to envelop his mouth around.

Younghyun crumples his face, realizing how weird that sounds, when a couple guys pass him by and he overhears a part of their conversation.

“—elling you it’s true, alright? There were gangsters in Highway Forest on the night Matteo died!”

Younghyun promptly chokes on his chicken wing and discreetly eyes the four guys headed for the lounge area behind the long table of food, sneakily placing himself just beside their couch. He recognizes them as that trio making up their weird little investigation bureau, and the fourth as one of the drama kids.

“Wait, wait, wait. Go back for a moment.” It’s the goth boy speaking, wearing what looks to be a watered down version of his usual dark self. “What do you mean there were gangsters in Highway Forest?”

“I saw it with my own two eyes—I live in the owl house, just at the entrance of Highway Forest.” The drama kid gestures dramatically, on-brand. “I was up all night practicing my lines for the class play, and I noticed a gray car parking just in front of Highway Forest.

“It was dark and they were a bit far away so I couldn’t see that clearly, but I could tell that they were bringing in a guy who was struggling. Guys—that must’ve been Matteo!”

But Younghyun furrows his eyebrows as that trio bring in mixed reactions, one of them speaking his mind.

“It’s possible,” the blond nerd says. “While it doesn’t directly explain why he ended up with those marks, it does explain why he would be in Highway Forest and who killed him.”

“It can also explain why he’d be out of his house even though his parents are overprotective,” the goth boy adds. “If those gangsters came in and took him away, his parents probably wouldn’t have been able to get him back. Those gangsters probably had a grudge on him—there are _plenty_ of assholes in Willowsbury.”

Yet the brunette jock seems uncertain.

“No,” he says, firmly. “This theory doesn't hold up. First off, Matt didn’t _have_ any enemies. He was kind to everyone, and everyone liked him, and even the ones who were jealous of him didn’t dare to do anything to him. He wasn’t so popular like Younghyun or that ex-girlfriend of five months of his—” _Damn. Okay._ “So if he was killed for that reason, there wouldn’t be much to gain.

“Second, if there were gangsters who stole Matt away, then why haven’t his parents talked about it? Right now, all they’ve said to anyone is that they want to mourn and be by themselves for a period of time. If he was kidnapped, wouldn’t they turn the town upside-down pressing charges? In fact, they should’ve been running around even _before_ he was found dead. But they only reacted after. And now, they’re completely silent.

“Lastly, if that really was Matt, then who were the gangsters that brought him there? You said it was a gray car, right? The only ones with a gray car in this town is Crazy Cynthia, Ugly Uriah, Needy Nita, Tacky Tan, and Younghyun fucking Kang.” _Does this guy hate me or something?_ “And I don’t think any of them have the guts, the will, or the manpower to kidnap a guy and kill him.”

Younghyun thinks that this brunette jock is starting to get a little bit desensitized from the death of his friend, using words like “dead” and “kill” so easily. It’s both terrifying and pitiful.

“Hm. You make a good statement,” the blond nerd says, as if with a nod. “Is it possible that what you saw was just a mere coincidence?”

“I mean—maybe," the drama kid replies and seems to shrug. “Like I said, I didn’t really see it all that well. But at the same time, if that wasn’t Matt, then why wasn't there any news about him, too? Wouldn’t another guy brought into Highway Forest attract attention? He surely must’ve had family, or a friend, right? Someone should’ve realized he was missing and posted notices everywhere. But it was only Matt.”

Younghyun agrees with that statement, having thought of it first and foremost when the drama kid mentioned those gangsters. The trio collectively nod and hum at the same time, deep in thought.

“It does seem like a coincidence…” the blond nerd says. “But at the same time, it feels as if the two can’t be _that_ disconnected from each other. Plus, the fact that they both happened around the time Matt was found dead—what time did you say you saw them?”

“At around 10 PM, Friday.”

“Matt’s estimated time of death is between 10 PM and 2 AM, Saturday.” The goth boy turns to the rest. “It fits in within the time frame.”

“That really can't be a coincidence,” the brunette jock concludes, a furrow in his voice. “It’s almost as if—”

“HOLY FUCKING SHIT!”

The five of them whirl around in shock to see a crowd gathering around a certain familiar person.

“DOWOON FUCKING YOON—HOW THE _FUCK_ ARE YOU CARRYING THAT?”

The crowd looks on with hollers and bewildered faces, eyes popping out of their sockets, as Dowoon holds up a _motherfucking_ _couch_ over his head with a couple passengers right on top.

“With one arm, obviously.” Dowoon grins, flexing. He switches the couch over to the other arm and the guys on it faint, collectively. “Watch this.”

He dips that couch down, then throws it up in the air, then catches it almost perfectly, the passengers wanting to hurl.

“DUDE! That’s fucking insane! How did you—are you even human?” The host of the party has his hands over his head, looking mindblown.

Dowoon just grins at him and places that couch down.

“In a way,” he says, “not at all.”

Younghyun watches as Dowoon is showered with praise and slaps on the back, and he finds himself breathless at how he was able to do that. 

He knew that Dowoon was always stronger than him—though it was still Younghyun who was able to open up the pickle jar for him—but he was never as strong as to lift up a fucking couch. When Younghyun bought a new couch for his own home, the both of them were heaving after just a few steps—they didn’t even reach the door.

How come Dowoon can do stuff like that now? And how come Younghyun never knew? Was he always hiding this from him, or was it never really a secret? But then again, neither of those made sense.

If he was hiding this, why would he hide it? If it wasn’t a secret, why did he pretend to not be that strong? It’s not like he could’ve magically gotten stronger overnight, right?

Younghyun watches as the host drapes an arm around Dowoon’s shoulder. 

“I gotta hand it to you, Dowoon—you really surprised me tonight,” he says, giving him a grin. “You’re definitely invited to _every_ single party from this day forward. And tomorrow, me and the guys are headed over to the next town for a music festival. You should definitely come with—our treat.”

_And he’s even getting invited to outings now_ , Younghyun thinks, the chicken wing in his hand long eaten, thrown away. _Maybe he_ could’ve _gotten stronger overnight, since he got more popular overnight, too._

“I’ll think about it,” Dowoon says, grinning. “Never been to a music festival before.”

_You should. They’re fun. I should’ve brought you there once, but you didn’t like crowds. Ah, but you like crowds now, so._

_But I’m not the one inviting you._

“You should! And afterwards, we could drive around, pick up hot chicks—”

_Get a girlfriend, kiss her under fairy lights_ —

“—go to all the best bars—remember! Our treat!”

_You’ll get new friends, and have new adventures, and I’ll just be the guy you used to hang out with._

Dowoon laughs. “I appreciate the offer—”

_When you make new memories,_

_You’ll forget about me._

“—but I don’t do anything unless Younghyun is okay with it,” Dowoon finishes, taking that arm off his shoulder. “He’ll probably blow his head off if I go somewhere without him. I don’t wanna worry him.”

“Seriously? That again?” The host of the party groans in displeasure. “You’re such a mother’s boy—Younghyun isn’t even that cool! He’s a fucking nobody, who only became popular because—”

A knee suddenly _slams_ into his groin, sending him yelling and falling down to the floor, the crowd going “ooh”.

“I told you, didn’t I?” Dowoon says, sneering at him, looking down. “Insult him again, and I’m kneeing you in the balls.”

The host of the party just groans, voice muffled against the floor, and the crowd watches as Dowoon turns to that long table, his best friend nowhere in sight.

“Did you guys see where Younghyun went?” He turns to a random person, who nervously answers.

“Uh, I think he went upstairs.” She points up. “He looked kinda upset, though I don’t know why—”

Dowoon is out there before she even said that last bit.

Younghyun buries his face in his hands, seated on the edge of a random bed, having walked into one of the empty bedrooms—you know, the one one uses for when guests come over. Because this house is his ex's _bigger fucking house_. 

He lets out a sigh and removes his face from his hands, glancing at the closed door and its bronze handle. He had locked it in hopes of having some privacy to himself. He sighs again--god, he's hopeless. 

He's upset over the pettiest thing: his best friend having more friends and spending time with people that aren't him. I mean—what could be more cringey than that? Is Younghyun Dowoon's owner or something? Is he entitled to control his life? If Dowoon wants to be with other people, that's his choice and Younghyun should respect that. 

In fact, Younghyun should be happy for him. For his entire life, Dowoon had no one but him. Timid, shy, outcasted, bullied—his self-esteem was already so low from the start, but it got worse when he entered high school—a place where teenagers thought that superiority meant picking on the inferior. 

The fact that there was even a power imbalance was already a problem. The fact that people were so eager to step on anyone who showed any sign of weakness. When someone is weak, shouldn't you use your power to give them strength? Isn't it the responsibility of the rich to uplift the poor? 

But no. People decided that when people are at the top, it is the responsibility of the poor to climb up towards them, and that they had the right to kick them off if so they pleased. If they got lucky, those poor people would become like them, and it would be a never-ending cycle of oppression. But Dowoon didn't even have the chance to climb up. Nor did he have the will to become like them. 

"As long as I endure until college, I'll be fine," he once said, in his sophomore year, just a month after his mother left for a new family. "Once I get out of here, there won't be anyone tripping me in the halls anymore. And you and I could do the things we weren't able to do before. Like have a pet dog."

This was at the time before Younghyun was as popular as he is today. Back then, he was just on the rise. 

"But I don't want to wait until then." Younghyun was seated on Dowoon's bed, looking at him as Dowoon did his homework. "I'm tired of seeing you getting pushed around like that. You didn't even do anything."

Dowoon just closed his notebook, satisfied after double-checking his answers. 

"I made myself look weak," he said, placing his notebook to the side. "I made myself an easy target." 

"That doesn't mean it was your _fault_." Younghyun almost threw a fit. " _You're_ not the problem; _they_ are. How can you blame yourself for being bullied when all you're doing is just being yourself?" 

"Well, I'm sorry that I'm not like you, okay? I can't be all confident and assured and brave enough to fight back," Dowoon snapped, glaring at him. "I'm just a weakling whose only job is to stay out of people's way. I'm just a burden—I hold no value and can't make people stay." 

He looked down at his lap, at how his fists were balled up there, at how the fabric of his pants were crushed. 

"I can't make people stay," he whispered, quietly now. So quiet you could barely hear it. 

It was only after a few moments that someone else's face filled up his vision. 

"You are the only person in my entire life I can't see myself living without," Younghyun said, on his knees, Dowoon's hands in his, looking up at him in determination, hoping his sincerity will reach him. "I promise you. By the end of sophomore year, no one's going to bully you anymore. Alright?" 

"And how do you know that?" Dowoon sniffed, holding onto Younghyun's hands tighter. 

"You'll see." 

What he made Dowoon see was the power of popularity. 

The weekend after that, Younghyun crashed his first party. It was a humble party, nothing too big or flashy, but it gained him a reputation for being Perry Berry's resident party animal. He did crazy things, performed crazy dares, and basically made everyone have the time of their life, not knowing that that unseeming but handsome little sophomore could actually be such a daredevil. Everyone thought he was just a pretty face--so when he chugged a whole gallon of beer at once, it was all anyone talked about come Monday. 

The rumors were so rapid that it even reached Dowoon—who interrogated him after class. 

"You drank a gallon of beer all at once at some guy's party?" he asked, standing in front of him by his locker. "Younghyun, you're not even twenty-one yet." 

"No one really cares, and I just discovered that I have a high alcohol tolerance, so." Younghyun moved past him. "I'm going to party all week." 

Any time he heard of a new party, he would always show up even without an invite. But people would welcome him as if they expected him to be there, regardless. People eventually started inviting him themselves, going out of town, attending concerts, and basically pulling him into the popular crowd. Not only that, but Younghyun liked to suck up to the higher-ups and the other popular guys, without making it _seem_ like he was sucking up. It gained him the reputation that he could be trusted and solidified his membership into their exclusive crowd. 

But one day, Dowoon showed up to one of their parties. 

Younghyun was so surprised that he almost dropped his solo cup to the ground, immediately going over to him and hoping no one saw him. 

"Dowoon, what are you doing here? If they see you, they'll make fun of you—and they might dump you with beer instead of mayonnaise." They were standing outside the front yard of the house, having moved to the side so that no one could see. 

Dowoon frowned at him. "You've been doing nothing but partying for two months. What do you even like about these people that you're willing to suck up to them?" 

"I don't like them, Dowoon. I'm doing this because I have to." 

"You _have_ to? Have to what? Get drunk all night, ruin your liver, and do weird things just to get people's attention? I heard you stripped in front of an entire crowd, and you didn't even tell me." 

Younghyun crumpled his face at how Dowoon caught him, and so he just rubbed Dowoon's arms the way he knew would calm him down. 

"I promise you, okay? This'll all make sense by the end of the year. Just—let me bring you home, and we'll talk about it in the morning, alright?" 

"No." Dowoon frowned at him. "I'm not just gonna let you hide things from me just 'cause you think I can't handle it. What's it gonna be, huh? Do I have to bring myself up to their level? Do I have to—" 

Dowoon suddenly cut himself off, having caught sight of Younghyun's red cup, then before Younghyun could stop him, he grabbed it and downed all the beer inside it, dropping the cup on the yard grass. 

"Is that— _hic_ —what you wanted?" Dowoon immediately started to slur, stumbling over himself and looking like he wanted to hurl. "Am I— _hic_ —as cool as those guys now—" 

Younghyun caught him just as soon as he was about to drop to the ground, feeling him half-heartedly punch him on the back. 

"You're never around anymore," Dowoon said, sounding like he was sobbing, pounding at Younghyun weakly yet Younghyun still felt pain. "I go to your house just to find you're away. I go to your house and it's the same as mine. Why can't you just stay with me…" 

Younghyun held him close as snores started to sound beside him, Dowoon's arms slack, body warming up from the alcohol circulating round his body. 

_Don't worry, Dowoon, okay?_ Younghyun mentally assured him, resigning for the night so he could bring Dowoon home and watch over him, until the next day. _Everything will be fine soon enough. I won't be gone for much longer. I promise you._

Monday arrived, and their classes were dismissed early. 

The mayor was celebrating his birthday, which meant that Willowsbury was under a holiday break, so Younghyun found himself alone with one of the popular kids in an empty classroom—surprise, surprise: it was his ex's cousin. 

"I'm hosting a party this weekend for the juniors and the seniors who'll be graduating this year," he said to him, the both of them seated on tables, his own arms crossed while Younghyun's palms were flat against the wood, leaning back. "It'll boost my reputation, and if you're there, it'll only boost it more." 

Back then, he wasn't as popular either. In fact, the only thing he had going for him was that he was rich. His cousin was already immensely popular since the start of middle school. He was clearly just trying to make a name for himself. Younghyun would've ignored him if not for one straight fact. 

"And what's in it for me?" he asked, not even bothering with looking at him. 

"My family's one of the richest in Willowsbury. I could get anything you want. Plus, if you attend, you'll only boost your reputation more." 

Younghyun let out a scoff and looked up at him, eyes cold. 

"Such a fair trade," he said, sarcastically. "Unfortunately, none of those hold value to me." 

He jumped off the table and pressed his face close to his. 

"I know that you're the one who's been egging the bullies to target Dowoon Yoon and Dowoon Yoon, specifically," he said, voice low, right against his ear. "Why do you do it, huh? 'Cause you know it'd get you a good laugh?" 

"What's it to you?" He pulled his face away from Younghyun, looking at him with a bewildered face. "Dowoon Yoon is just a nobody and a weakling. The way he is, he's just asking for people to make fun of him. Going on about those weird shows and hiding his face all day. The guys all love pushing him around, so what—" 

Younghyun suddenly grabbed that guy's face in one hand, squishing his cheeks and making him look like an ugly goldfish. 

"I'm going to have to stop you there unless you want me to sock your face," he said, putting his face close and making the guy squirm, a deadly look in his eye. "Dowoon Yoon is my best friend. And if you insult him one more time you'll have a broken nose. Understand me?" 

The guy nodded his head fearfully, and Younghyun released him, going to lean on a table and check his nails. 

"You want me to bring your reputation up at that party? Fine." He looked up at him. "But in exchange, neither you nor any of the bullies in this goddamn fucking school can touch even a _hair_ on Dowoon Yoon's head. No backbiting, no snickers when he passes by, and no fucking mayonnaise in his bag. 

"If I see even a single of that tomorrow, or even the rest of your school days, I'm going to ruin your fucking life and make you regret ever associating with me. 

"Do we have a deal?" 

His eyes were cold when they stared at him, cold and icy. And he could see the guy hesitate, glancing down at the hand Younghyun put up. 

But eventually, he held it. 

"Deal." 

Younghyun's icy features melted away. 

"Then, be ready to have the best party in your entire life." 

The next day, Dowoon entered school in his usual hoodie ensemble, shoulders hunched, back shaped like a banana, glancing around for anyone who might trip him this morning. 

A couple guys spotted him walking in the hallways, and he saw the way they glanced at each other and snickered, going over to approach him, a mischievous glint in their eyes. 

Dowoon immediately flinched and went over to cover his face with his hoodie, hoping that whatever it is won't be that bad. He saw a hand go over his face. 

And place itself on his head, patting it. The other guys also passed him by, patting his back and walking away. 

Dowoon turned back to them, dumbfounded, watching them laugh to themselves. He then tried to reach over for his bag and check his jacket, wondering what they put on him.

"There's nothing there. I promise you." 

Dowoon looked up to see a familiar smiling face, one he hadn't seen much in a couple of months, grinning at him, standing next to him, clad in the new clothing he kept buying, hair styled to perfection as he meticulously started to make sure it looked great, every day. 

"I told you I'd make sure no one would bully you by the end of the year," Younghyun said, hands in his pockets, and Dowoon immediately slammed into him, wrapping his hands around his torso, catching a whiff of a new cologne that he must've bought recently, too. 

"You butthole," he said, voice muffled in Younghyun’s shirt. The latter placed a hand on his head, patting it and hugging him back, softly. "Why didn't you just tell me it was like that? I thought you abandoned me." 

"I wanted to surprise you," Younghyun consoled him, not caring that there were people looking. "And I didn't want you to feel bad because I've been going to parties because of you. You already freaked out when you found out I stripped in front of everybody. Who knows what you would've thought if you found out that I—" 

Dowoon pulled his face up and stared at Younghyun. So, Younghyun coughed and didn't continue. 

"Anyway, no one's gonna bully you anymore. Alright?" Younghyun ruffled his hair. "Come on, let's get to class." 

And things went smoothly from then on. No one tripping Dowoon in the halls, or making fun of him for an essay he wrote—openly, anyway. It wasn't as if people started to become all buddy-buddy with him, and he was definitely still isolated. But it didn't matter because even though Younghyun was embedded into the popular crowd, Dowoon was still his priority. He was still the boy who brought him into town to watch a movie premiere with him. He was still the boy who listened to him talk for hours about the color of a single gem. 

But unfortunately, Dowoon is no longer the boy who would hide under his hoodie and hold onto Younghyun's jacket in the halls. Unfortunately, Dowoon is no longer the boy who loved sci-fi and squealed about fantasy. 

He's the boy who's rising in popularity now, the boy who's got a crowd hollering and cheering for him, the boy who can lift a couch in one hand apparently, and the boy who's got people wanting to hang out with them. The boy who's going to abandon him like Younghyun did, temporarily. Except this time, it might be permanent. 

Younghyun buries his face in his hands again, sighs emanating across the bare room as he feels a headache coming on. I mean—this is what he always wanted, right? For Dowoon to be confident in his own skin and find people he could be around with, not just Younghyun? I mean, how sad would it be to have only one friend in your entire life? Even Younghyun has other friends—he thinks. 

To him, Dowoon was always number one and number one only. It felt weird to have a number two. The other guys he hung out with held a friendship that was shallow, limited to the walls of the school they attended. 

But Dowoon—Dowoon was a friend for life. Dowoon was someone he always saw in his future with, even as he imagined standing at that aisle. Dowoon was his best man. And when Dowoon would get married someday, he imagined _he_ would be his best man. They never discussed it, but he knew it was a given. 

He just can't believe he's feeling upset over something he always wanted for him. What kind of a friend was he? Who was he to want to keep his reins on him? If he wanted to go, he should let him go. That's logical, right? 

Younghyun just buries his face further between his knees, hands clasped over each other, another sigh, another minute. He shakes his head in disbelief, unbelieving of himself. 

Then, a knock on the door knocks him out of his reverie. 

"Younghyun? Are you there?" 

It's Dowoon. 

Why is he not surprised? 

A knock comes again. 

"Younghyun? You're not sleeping, are you?" 

Younghyun hesitates in answering. 

"Younghyun isn't here," he says, trying to mask his voice. 

There's a pause on the other end of the door. 

"Younghyun, if you don't open this, I'm breaking it down." 

And so Younghyun sighs for the last time and walks over, unlocking the door. 

He's immediately faced with the face of a concerned boy and the sound of booming music deafening his ears. 

"Someone said you looked upset," Dowoon says, Younghyun's fingers on the edge of the door. "Everything okay?" 

Younghyun just looks at him for a few moments, a few passersby walking behind him, and he just goes back into the room, Dowoon following and closing the door behind him, music now muffled. 

Younghyun settles down on the bed. "Everything's fine. I'm not upset." 

"That's what you say when you mean the complete opposite." Dowoon goes over and sits next to him. "Come on. Just tell me." 

"It's stupid." Younghyun shakes his head, burying his face in his hands. Again. "It's not even that big of a deal." 

"But it made you go here, though," Dowoon says, gesturing to the room. "If it's not a big deal, why are you having trouble saying it to me?" 

It takes a second and a half before Younghyun musters enough courage in his heart to steel and harden it. 

"I'm upset because…" he says, gritting his teeth, refusing to look at him. "Because people like you now. I'm upset because… I'm jealous." 

A breath leaves Dowoon's lips, surprised. "You're jealous?" he repeats. "Because I've been getting attention?" 

"People are fawning all over you, talking about you, when before they wouldn't even look at you." Younghyun lowers his head further. "They all want a piece of you, and they all want to get your attention." 

Dowoon just laughs. "Younghyun, you don't have to be jealous of me. You're always going to be the more popular one—" 

"I'm not jealous _of_ you, Dowoon—I'm jealous that people think they can suddenly have you!" 

Younghyun finally releases his face and looks at Dowoon with a face full of frustration, eyebrows furrowed, lips bitten. 

" _You_ are _my_ best friend. They can't just suddenly take claim of you when they don't even know who you are. _I_ know who you are, _I've_ been with you for thirteen years. The only person who gets to be with you is me, and me _only_!" 

Younghyun's chest heaves up and down as he feels his heart pound rapidly, feeling the tips of his fingers tremble, staring at Dowoon's widened eyes. 

He looks away, buries his face. 

"It's selfish of me," he says. "It's selfish that I want you only for myself. I should be happy for you, but I…" 

He doesn't say another word and feels Dowoon get off the bed, the mattress lifting with his absence. 

Then he feels a pair of hands take in his own, and he opens his eyes to see another pair looking up at him, constellations swirling inside them. 

"You are the only person in my entire life I can't see myself living without," Dowoon says, gripping his hands tighter with every word. "No matter how much others want me, they can't have me. Only you can." 

It's the words Younghyun said to him before. And the words Dowoon said to him before. When he was comforting him after his mother left him. When he was comforting him after his ex flirted with him. 

They stare at each other for a few more seconds, the sound of the muffled music outside their door dimming with every. 

Then Dowoon lifts himself up and leans in. 

His lips kiss the skin of an open palm. 

"We just kissed on Monday," Younghyun says, and Dowoon looks at him. 

"So?" he asks, and Younghyun puts his hand down. 

He points out, "We've never kissed twice in the same week before." 

"Is that a rule?" Dowoon raises an eyebrow. 

Younghyun thinks for a moment. 

"No. No, it isn't." And he grabs him and pulls him down to kiss him. 

He reaches over and wraps his arms around Dowoon's neck again, feeling him lift him up and place him square on the bed, Younghyun’s knees propped up on either side of him, giving him space to kiss him further. 

He can feel Dowoon's fingers card through his hair, moans leaving either of their lips, a kind of heat emanating between the two of them, Younghyun's heart pounding. 

He can feel Dowoon tug on the fabric of his shirt, wanting to lift it up but remembering what he said the last time they kissed. Younghyun breaks the kiss and spots Dowoon looking back at him with his lips swollen red, catching sight of that cross around his neck catching light. 

"You want to touch me?" he asks, feeling his cheeks burn from asking. 

"If it's okay with you," Dowoon breathes, eyes searching his. 

Slowly, Younghyun nods, shyily, blushingly, a bottom lip trapped underneath his teeth. 

And immediately, Dowoon crashes his lips into his again, making him moan and hold onto him tighter, the mattress creaking from the movement. He feels Dowoon's fingers dip under his shirt, and he sucks in a breath, fingers digging into Dowoon's skin. 

Dowoon touches him gently and carefully, hands on his lower abdomen, slowly moving their way up. Feeling every piece of skin, going under his shirt. Every touch sending electricity sparking up Younghyun's body. 

He jerks from the feeling, arching his back, whimpering against the kiss, sensitive. Feels Dowoon's rough fingers go over his skin, over his stomach. Younghyun's toes curling, body burning from it all. 

He's never had anyone touch him like this before. And Dowoon is so gentle, so careful, touching every part of him like it's precious. Kissing him and touching him, like he's addicted to Younghyun’s skin. Like he wants to know how Younghyun feels on every inch of his body. 

His fingers reach up to his chest, shirt pulled up to let cold air seep in, and Younghyun involuntarily moans when Dowoon touches a nipple, fiddling it with one finger. He ends up breaking the kiss to moan next to Dowoon's ear, his fingers non-stopping. 

"What the fuck," he says, curling his back, eyes still closed shut. "Why am I… why is this…" 

"You're surprisingly sensitive," Dowoon says to him, low voice in his ear sending waves down his abdomen. "God, I fucking love it." 

He goes to take Younghyun's leather jacket off, and then his shirt is pulled up right against his armpits, lips on him the moment it's off. He touches him again, sending fire across Younghyun's skin, and Younghyun accepts it, falling in love with the feeling. 

He feels Dowoon move on from his lips to his jaw, from his jaw to his neck, from his neck to his shoulder. Making Younghyun grip his fingers tighter on his body, feeling his tongue lick him and his lips press kisses on his body. His fingers haven't stopped either, and the room is hot, hot, hot. 

Younghyun's dick has already gone so painfully hard from this, pressing against his jeans, wanting release. But the only thing here is Dowoon's hips accidentally grinding on it every now and then, and so Younghyun can only moan and whimper and whine. 

Eventually, Dowoon's fingers go over his back, his hands looking to lift him up for whatever reason they deemed fit, but when his middle finger presses on a space between his shoulder blades, Younghyun suddenly cries out, arching his back and almost yelling, feeling a thousand sparks go straight to his abdomen. 

Dowoon is shocked for a moment, but when he sees that Younghyun didn't cry out of pain, his fingers go over his back again. 

"What was it, Younghyun?" he asks, lips right against his ear, kissing him right where his cross earring hung from his piercing. "Tell me." 

"I-I don't know," Younghyun stutters, feeling his cheeks burn from where he bites his earlobe. _Sensitive_. "I-it felt good there, for some reason—" 

Dowoon's finger finds that spot again, and Younghyun keels, moaning out loud and buckling his hips up, inadvertently grinding on Dowoon. 

"Here?" And Dowoon presses it again, sending torrents crashing down on Younghyun's body. "Does it feel good here?" 

Younghyun doesn't understand it. Where Dowoon touches him, it's like pressing on a tight muscle. Kneading into him, tickling him, but sending moans instead of laughs out of his body. He isn't even touching him down there; the back isn't usually expected to be an erogenous zone. Yet Younghyun is panting, and he can't stop moaning and he's feeling a sort of dizzying heat that's got him going crazy. 

Dowoon puts his head down and sucks on a nipple, and Younghyun finds himself going mad. Dowoon's fingers continue kneading him in that part of his back, and Younghyun goes absolutely feral. He feels him slowly grind against him, and he accepts it, not even registering what it is. He feels one of his hands dip under his jeans, and he no longer questions it. 

Younghyun lets whimpers and whines leave his lips in torrents, the room feeling the way steam fogs up clear glass. He lets Dowoon push against him and lightly grind against him, knees jerking up and toes curling. He doesn't know what they're doing—or rather, _pretends_ he doesn't know what they're doing—and lets Dowoon take over him, the feeling pulling him under. He keeps his head tilted to the side, that cross earring tapping against the bedding, feeling Dowoon's cross necklace press onto his skin, cold against the heat. 

Then, someone opens the door and lets out a strangled yell, making the both of them snap out of it and sit up on the bed. 

The person standing before them is none other than the host of the party, his eyes blown wide, accusing finger pointing, light brown hair a mess as if he just finished rolling around the floor. 

For a while, none of them speak, the heat dying down slowly, each of them united with bewildered eyes. 

Then, slowly, the guy starts to chuckle, starting small then growing big, until he's full-blown cackling and guffawing. 

Dowoon just gives Younghyun his shirt back and he wears it, cautious eyes watching the host laugh his ass off, like a madman. 

"Oh, my fucking god—this is _rich_. This is _fucking_ rich!" He slaps his thigh and gestures with both hands, as if saying, "Look at this! Look at everything in front of me!" "No _wonder_ you two are so fucking close with each other, threatening me every single time I fucking insult you behind your back. You guys are fucking each other! Behind _everyone's_ backs! Fucking _priceless_!" 

Younghyun hastily puts his jacket back as Dowoon spits at him,

"And what does that have to do with you?" 

"Oh, it has _everything_ to do with me!" And when he grins it's fucking deadly. "Since you two have had it at me for years. I offered both of you gifts of a lifetime, and you both turned on me for your own gain!" 

"The fuck are you talking about?" Younghyun says, and the guy laughs again. 

"Don't you remember? I invited you to my party, and you threatened me into getting me to stop bullying _him_ ," and he pointed. "And _you_ fucking kicked me in the balls after I invited you to go to a music fest! Just 'cause I called _him_ a fucking loser." 

Younghyun whips his head at Dowoon in surprise but he isn't able to question him when the guy continues.

"I've been nothing but nice to the both of you, and you decided to beat me up just 'cause you got your feelings hurt!" He puts his hands up in a mocking manner. "Birds of the same feather _fuck_ together, I guess. Fucking laughable." 

Younghyun feels his heart pound from that comment, and when he speaks his voice is shaky. 

"And so?" he says, grabbing onto Dowoon, needing something to hold onto. "Who cares if we make out every now and then? It doesn't mean anything!" 

"Oh, I'm sure it _doesn't_ mean anything." The guy gives him a devious smile. "But I bet it'd mean something to Mr and Mrs Kang." 

Younghyun’s blood runs cold. 

"The world is moving forward, but their world stopped turning for a long time. I wonder what they'd think when they find a new postcard sitting on their desk overseas." 

He slams his door _shut!_ sending an empty silence surrounding the room. 

"Mother _fucker_ —"

Dowoon swears and goes up to run after him, but a hand on his wrist stops him from taking the first step. 

When he turns back, he sees Younghyun with his eyes in a daze, chest heaving, lips trembling, hand on his wrist shaking uncontrollably. 

"Younghyun? Younghyun, hey—Younghyun, what's wrong?" 

He cups his cheeks, and Younghyun holds onto both of his hands, eyes shakingly moving up to meet his, turning glossy, the tears brimming immediately. 

"My life is ruined," he sobs, the tears falling down his cheeks and staining his ripped jeans. "I'm never going to be free again." 

Dowoon just holds him as Younghyun cries incessantly, shoulders shaking, sobs non-stopping, the feeling in his heart unbearable. 

No matter how much he cries, he'll never prevent the torment that's to come. No matter how tight Dowoon holds him, it'll only be comfort and nothing more. 

The night ends with the moon glowing bright beyond the window, the cross dangling from Younghyun's ear feeling more like a cursed item than a blessing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- why yes. i did ruin a perfectly perfect making out scene by which younghyun was probably about to figure out that maybe he isnt actually straight. thank you for noticing  
> \- in all seriousness tho, never out someone, okay? "outing" means to let other people know about someone's sexuality, gender identity, etc. without their consent. mr host of the party is an asshole. don't be like him  
> \- also yes. i did imply that younghyun's ex is probably going to get a lesbian girlfriend behind-the-scenes. i wonder how many people noticed


	6. They'll Never Win

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Younghyun reminisces an old incident from when he was a kid._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Childhood Abuse, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Trauma, Threat of Panic Attack, Parent Neglect, Religious Abuse, Referenced Death

When Younghyun was little, he had an aunt who visited every weekend. 

This aunt lived outside of Willowsbury, in one of the big cities, where every day passes a second an hour. 

She had short, dyed hair and often wore pants or suits. She had a motorcycle, and her long, painted fingernails were often adorned with stick-on jewels. She was the definition of progress before Younghyun even knew what progress was: a little boy, almost seven years old, seated on her lap and listening to her stories from the big city. Listening to her gentle, cheery voice, and the way she laughed and pinched his cheeks. She laughed very loudly, with her mouth wide open, the sound of it echoing. Younghyun's mother never liked the sound of it, though it always made Younghyun smile. 

His parents were mostly tolerant of her. This was before they got that job overseas. Though he mostly had a nanny, they were still in the room, discussing the bills. And his aunt was always there to make him look forward to the weekends. 

One day, he noticed that there was a new ring among his aunt's set of rings. A simple one, compared to all the shiny gems and intricate designs. 

"Auntie, where'd you get this one?" he asked, putting her hand up and gazing upon the smooth, metal surface. "It looks different." 

"It was a gift," his aunt said, giving him a smile as she spoke in a hushed voice. His parents were in the next room discussing taxes. "My best friend gave it to me." 

"It looks kinda boring." Younghyun pouted, and his aunt laughed, like the twinkling of wind chimes. 

"I guess it is. But it's my favorite one," she said, stars twinkling in her eyes. "Because it was given to me. I could buy it for myself, but it wouldn't be the same. It's special because it's a gift." 

Younghyun then saw that ring in a new light, gently passing his chubby fingers over it, thinking that it was his favorite now, too. 

"Could I get a gift like this, too?" he asked, looking up at her with his bright eyes. "When you're done with it, could I have it?" 

His aunt chuckled and brought him up by the armpits, placing him on her lap and ruffling his hair. 

"I'm sorry, little Younghyun." She smiled at him. "I don't think I'm ever going to be done with it." 

"Aw…" Younghyun said, disappointed, lifting his Aunt's left hand again and gazing upon her ring. 

She laughed again. "But you know, Younghyun, one day, I bet you're going to find someone who'll give you a ring like this. Or any sort of gift, if you don't want a ring. 

"And when that happens, you're going to be so happy that you'll probably never be sad again. Or if you do, you'll have someone who can cheer you up. They're going to be your _bestest_ friend. And they're going to love you, and you're going to live happily together."

Younghyun felt his heart swell in excitement for this person, wondering who it could be. 

"Are we going to live happily _ever after_ together?" he asked, giggling. 

She grinned at him and tickled his stomach. 

"The happiest ever after you could have." 

The next weekend, Younghyun's aunt didn't visit. 

He watched as his mother screamed into the telephone, telling her sister she was going to hell and that she had gone too far this time, that her influence was going to taint her son, that she should've never let her visit. 

His mother slammed the telephone in its place in the wall, and he watched her curse and kick the furniture, his father calmly reading a newspaper on the couch. 

"You should've known from the way she dressed," he said off-handedly, as his wife went and cursed some more, rolling his eyes as if to say, "Women." "I already knew from the beginning." 

Younghyun carefully stepped down the stairs and slowly approached them in the living room, hands on the edge of the archway entrance, still in his PJs, the ones his aunt gave him. 

"Is Auntie not coming anymore?" he asked, and his mother whipped her head at him, stomping over. "But it's my birthday next week—" 

Younghyun was suddenly grabbed by the shoulders so hard that his arms ached. 

" _Don't you ever talk about that bitch ever again, you hear me?_ " she practically screamed in his face, though her voice was low, and Younghyun felt the tears already coming out of him, just a child who didn't understand why she was mad at him. " _You_ are going to marry a _girl_ , and if you don't, you're going to _Hell_. Do you want to go to Hell, Younghyun? Do you want me to take you there?" 

Younghyun sobbed and cried and shook his head vigorously, remembering the time when he accidentally touched a hot pan. His mother told him that's how Hell felt like. 

"No, Mama! I don't wanna go there, please, I don't wanna go there, don't take me there, I don't wanna go to Hell…" 

He kept crying as his mother spoke to him. He couldn't even lift his hands up to wipe his face. 

"Then, find a girl to marry, and make sure it's a _girl_. Or _else_." She held him close but he didn't feel loved. He saw his father flipping his newspaper like it was just another day. "I won't let you be like her. I won't let you go to Hell like her." 

The next weekend, Younghyun spent it alone with his nanny next to him and a plate of chocolate cake standing in front of him. 

"Make a wish, Younghyun," his nanny said, giving him a smile and gesturing to the fire lit under the number seven. "You should wish Mama and Papa well on their first day overseas." 

Younghyun just wordlessly stood up on his seat and blew his candle out, chubby fingers on the edge of the table. 

"I wish," he said, voice soft, "to find someone so we could live happily ever after. I wish it's gonna be a girl. I wish God lets me go to Heaven." 

His nanny chuckled. "You can only have one wish, silly." 

But it didn't matter which one came true. Any one would have been fine for him. 

As time went on, the fragments of that memory started to break down, like pieces of old paint peeling from the weathered walls. Like the small details of a painting getting rubbed off as one passed their hands over it, the whole story to be found as particles of dust left over on one's skin. Younghyun forgot what he and his aunt previously talked about and only remembered her kind voice and the way she smiled. And Younghyun remembered the exact words his mother said to him and forgot what it was like before his parents left. 

Ever since then, he lived in fear of what they would do to him. What they'd take away, what they'd hurt, if he so much as showed any sign of becoming like his aunt. And for the years that they'd been away, as college grew near, he thought he could finally have his freedom, a morsel to taste before he could have his meal. 

But by indulging in the appetizers, he had summed up a bill he couldn't pay for. 

And now he lies alone, under the covers of his own bed, having just woken up to afternoon light seeping through the windows; it tries to warm him, yet it can't. 

He recalls the night before, how Dowoon brought him back to his house via his car and almost crashed it, and how Younghyun didn't even react. How he walked him up to his room with an arm around his shoulder, a tight grip on it, how he tucked him in bed. How the moment he left, Younghyun started crying again, and Dowoon immediately went back inside, holding him in his arms. Saying that things will be alright, that he won't have anything to worry about, that he was gonna be fine, just fine. 

Younghyun just shook his head amidst the tears. "You don't know them like I do, Dowoon. They were gone by the time you came along. Mom was willing to disown Auntie just because she married a woman. If she finds out I've been kissing you, she'll never let me see the light of day. No college, no freedom—she won't care that I'm eighteen. She's going to lock me up, and Dad won't even say anything."

Dowoon just continued to hold him close, letting him sob and wet his shirt, the cross on his chest getting soaked, too. Younghyun's earring tapped miserably against Dowoon's skin. 

"She's not going to do that," he said, rubbing comforting circles on his back. "They won't. I swear on it." 

Younghyun just let out a coughing sob, shaking his head against Dowoon's skin, letting him hug him tighter, snot and tears dribbling down. 

No matter what Dowoon said, it would never come true. It would just be a stupid candle on a stupid birthday cake making him hope that stupid wishes can come true. They're only there to make you feel better. They're never there to keep what they promise.

Eventually, Younghyun fell asleep in Dowoon's arms, and he felt, in his sleepy state, the boy lay him down and cover him in a blanket. 

He might've stayed there or he may have left immediately. If he said something, Younghyun would never know. All Younghyun does know is that the moment he woke up to the afternoon light, Dowoon was gone and he was just a body in a blanket. 

There was no one in the room, and Younghyun blankly thought, _It's Sunday_. 

He lifted a hand up and found that his earring was gone. He looked and saw that it was on the bedside drawer beside him. 

If he wore that, what would his Mom and Dad say? Would they praise him for openly worshipping the Lord? Or would they berate him for getting his ears pierced? 

Whichever way they would answer, Younghyun merely picked the earring up and slipped the hoop in, the cross dangling and swaying. 

He goes back to bed and forces himself to go back to sleep, alone with his thoughts for a couple more hours before he eventually descends once more. He doesn't dream about anything, and when he wakes up in subsequent intervals, he just closes his eyes to go back to sleep. Wanting it to pull him in, drag him down, and give him a sense of comfort only it can bring. When you sleep, it's like you don't exist. Therefore, your problems don't exist either. A kind of ignorant bliss. 

Eventually, he feels someone lightly shake him awake, and when he comes to he sees that it's Dowoon, seated on the edge of his bed, a bowl of hot noodle soup on the bedside drawer. 

"Hey, you've been asleep all day," he says, hand permanent upon his shoulder, the windows showcasing the night. "I made you soup. It's instant, but—" 

He notices Younghyun's left ear. 

"Did you put this back on?" he asks, fiddling with his cross earring, his own cross necklace hanging from his neck. "That's dangerous. It could get caught in the blanket." 

Younghyun doesn't say anything to him. Dowoon changes the subject. 

"Anyway, you should eat this while it's hot," he says, then moves over to remove that earring from his ear. "If you're gonna keep sleeping, you should just wear this in the morning—" 

Younghyun abruptly sits up and makes Dowoon painfully tug at his earring, making him let go of it in shock—yet his hand finds its fingers wrapped in Younghyun's. 

"I don't want to go to school tomorrow," he whines, the tears coming out now that he no longer has his lack of dreams to distract him from reality. 

It's what he's been dreading the entire time he kept himself on this bed. Before the storm of his parents coming crashing down on him. When he walks in that school, it'll be like multiple thems staring and whispering at him. He finds himself breathing heavily at the thought. He doesn't know what he'd do the moment his foot is beyond that door. 

"You have to," Dowoon says, holding Younghyun's hand tight and placing his other hand on his cheek. "Too many absences, and you might have to repeat the year." 

"But I don't _want_ to." Younghyun feels like a child. But he'd rather be made fun of and called immature than walk through those hellways. "You don't understand, okay? If I go there, I won't be able to breathe. If I go there, I don't know what I'd do. Please, Dowoon, don't make me go through that. I don't want to go through that, I don't want to go to Hell, please—" 

Flashbacks of that conversation send Younghyun crumpling his face and almost breaking down, having to force himself so he won't go in a spiral. And Dowoon just cups his face through all of this. 

"It won't be Hell there," he says. "I promise." 

Younghyun shakes his head. "No. You don't get it. That asshole is going to tell my parents that I kiss my best friend, and he's going to tell the whole school, too. He's probably already told everyone—they're going to stare at me— _look_ at me—" 

Dowoon brings him back to reality and squeezes his face. 

"It _won't_. Be like that," he says, a determined expression on his face. "I promise you. Trust me. I'm not saying this just to make you feel better. When you walk in that school, it will just be like any other day. You have nothing to worry about." 

Younghyun doesn't know how Dowoon could be so sure of that, when he knows exactly what those people are like behind his back. They fawn over him, and praise him, but the moment he makes a mistake, they're going to treat him like trash. And that would've been fine if his parents weren't involved. But they gave him the first bite of what bullies tasted like. 

"How can you be so positive at a time like this?" Younghyun asks, wanting to cry some more. 

"I'm not," Dowoon says, shaking his head. "I'm just telling you the truth. Now, come on—you gotta eat something. I'll feed you, come on, get up." 

Monday couldn't have come sooner. 

Younghyun had to have Dowoon cradle him in his arms just so he would calm down and fall asleep, to stop worrying about school before school came. He had to drag his feet away from the bed and stood in the shower doing nothing for a good fifteen minutes. He only combed his hair enough to make him look non-haggard and had to force himself to swallow the undercooked pancakes Dowoon made for him. 

He knew he couldn't indulge in staying weak, but what was the point if his parents were going to kill him anyway? What was the point of dressing up, or taking a bath, of going to school? Of eating, and getting in his car, and letting Dowoon drive him there slowly? 

What was the point of all that? Younghyun didn't think there was any. And when Dowoon successfully parks in the lot and moves to remove his seatbelt, Younghyun immediately grabs his hand and holds it tightly, feeling his heart pounding, feeling as if gravity is forcing him to stay on the ground. 

"Please, don't make me go there," he says, eyes forward and staring at the building looking more like a prison. "Please."

Dowoon just releases Younghyun's seat belt and opens his side of the car, pulling him out—no, yanking him out. 

"There's nothing for you to worry about," he repeats, locking Younghyun's car and holding onto his shoulder firmly, dragging the boy step by step. "Everything's fine. You're fine." 

Younghyun shakes his head. They're outside now, so he doesn't let himself cry, but anyone who looks at them would notice that he's struggling. 

"I'm not fine," he says. "Everything's not fine." 

"It is," Dowoon insists. They're at the entrance now. "Walk inside. You'll see." 

He does, and Younghyun braces himself, holding onto Dowoon's hand, nails digging into his skin. He walks inside, and everyone turns to look at him—Younghyun steps back—

"Morning, Younghyun," someone says. A prep. From the popular crowd. "Hey, Dowoon." 

Dowoon greets him with a nod, and Younghyun doesn't even greet him back, rigidly going over to his locker, eyes on everyone who greets him as usual, gradually starting to greet them in small nods, small heys. 

Dowoon looks at him with serious eyes, no smile. "You see? Everything's normal." 

"He must've not told them yet," Younghyun says, staring at his locker, hand on Dowoon's. "But he's going to tell my parents soon enough. Then, this normal isn't going to matter." 

Dowoon shakes his head. 

"He isn't going to tell your parents." 

"He will. He said so. When he plans something, he won't stop until he—" 

"Younghyun." Dowoon's eyes are steady. "He _can't._ Tell your parents." 

Younghyun turns to him, cross earring dangling. 

"What do you mean he _can't_?" 

Dowoon just gestures to look at everyone in the hallway, and Younghyun turns, finally noticing it. 

While everyone is "normal", the people move at a pace like they're _trying_ to be normal, but know that nothing is, moving awkwardly and talking awkwardly, like there's a giant elephant in the room that they refuse to acknowledge. 

Younghyun furrows his eyebrows, wondering what made everyone act like this, when a trio pass him by, speaking in hushed whispers. 

"First, Matteo, then, those gangsters, and now, him. These things keep happening in Highway Forest—it can't just be a coincidence." 

Slowly, Younghyun turns to Dowoon, like a creaky machine, eyes unblinking, blood frozen. 

And Dowoon just turns to stare at him, eyes cold, eyes unbothered. 

He doesn't need to tell him anything for Younghyun to know what happened. 

The host of the party that was held two days ago

is dead. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- and that's the end of the first arc :3c  
> \- you will be surprised at how mr host of the party died  
> \- i, for one, love this development  
> \- see you in briwoonweek!! *kisses*


	7. Everything for Granted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Younghyun deals with the news of a second student's death._   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Body Horror, Post-Mortem, Dead Bodies, Injuries, Suicidal Thoughts Mention

Younghyun flips through the newspaper with a furrow in his eyebrow. Beside him, Dowoon glances from where he sits, a cup of soda in his hand.

“You planning on taking a bite of that?” Dowoon asks, and Younghyun sees him point to his metal tray, but he’s too busy to think of food right now.

“No, it’s okay. You can have it,” Younghyun says, sliding his finger across the printed words and finding himself shaking his head, baffled by it. “I still can’t believe Andrew died so suddenly. And these details—I can’t even think.”

Andrew is the name of the boy who died after threatening he’d tell Younghyun’s parents about him kissing his best friend. Over the weekend, Younghyun spent it crying over what would happen to him, but it turned out that the boy had long been dead.

Dowoon says, “Maybe you’d think better if you ate something.”

“I can’t eat now. Later.” Younghyun re-reads what he’s read a thousand times. “The way it happened is too suspicious. It’s just too similar.”

A few hours ago, when they were still standing in the hallway, Younghyun’s eyes were widened to the point they were bulging, the news keeping him at a standstill. With just one look from Dowoon, he immediately knew what he meant, and the message almost sent him to the floor.

“Andrew is _dead_?” Younghyun blurted, earning everyone’s looks and a lot of huddled, hushed whispers. “But—but—we were just _talking_ to him a few days ago. Didn’t he _say_ he was gonna tell my parents that I—”

“Stop speaking before you end up doing what he couldn’t.” And Younghyun immediately shut his mouth. Dowoon gave him a nod and continued: “But, yeah—it’s true. Andrew’s dead. I told you I was telling the truth.”

“But how did that even _happen_?” Younghyun couldn’t wrap his mind over it. He had just been worrying about the whole matter all weekend, and now it turned out that the villain _died_? “How could a guy just die so suddenly? After _promising_ and _swearing_ that he’d ruin my life?”

“These things happen, Younghyun—it’s a part of life,” Dowoon said, turning to him and looking a little tired, to be honest. “Look, it’s just better for you to stop dwelling over it. Now that he isn’t here anymo—what—what are you doing?”

“Looking for answers,” Younghyun said as he started walking in a specific direction. “I’m not going to believe he’s dead until I see it with my own eyes.”

He heard Dowoon protest and call his name as he opened the door to the Journalism Club—finding about a dozen unfamiliar faces whipping their heads up to look at him.

“I need a copy of the Willowsbury Gazette _right_ now,” Younghyun said, feeling Dowoon just catch up to him, arriving seconds later. It wasn’t long until someone handed him the newspaper.

“Page seven, top-left,” someone told him. Younghyun thanked them and grabbed the paper before he could see who it was. 

_**Son of Local Business Magnate Found Dead** _

**By DALISAY MACABANGBANG**

18-year-old Andrew Sprouse was found dead at a clearing in Highway Forest last Sunday morning by a local woman looking for her missing dog at around 7 AM.

According to the witness, she had noticed an “odd, putrid scent” coming from a particular direction in the woods when she found Sprouse’s corpse— 

“Hey!” Younghyun exclaimed as someone snatched the newspaper away from him.

It was Dowoon, who was giving him a stern look on his face.

“You don’t need to read stuff like this to know if a guy is dead,” he said, keeping the newspaper away from him as Younghyun tried to grab it. “I already told you it myself. Why do you need further confirmation—”

“Because _hearsay_ is just _hearsay_ , Dowoon,” Younghyun said, still trying to reach for it. “You can’t trust _anything_ if it’s just hearsay—”

“What—so you don’t trust me?” Dowoon said, sounding offended. “Your best _friend_. You don’t _trust_ me?” 

“Of _course_ , I trust you—I didn’t _mean_ it like that!” Younghyun lunged, but he missed by a centimeter. “Just give me the stupid newspaper!”

“No,” Dowoon refused, not letting Younghyun get near for a second. “You’re frantic. You’re panicking. You’re at the height of your emotions, and I can’t let you read this _bullshit_ until you _calm_ the fuck d—”

He wasn’t able to say anymore when Younghyun pulled him down and kissed him.

He could hear several gasps springing from in and out of the hallway, and he could feel Dowoon freeze a bit—

“Thanks.”

Younghyun took it.

He walked away and flipped open the newspaper in his hands, and it was only several moments later when he felt someone by his side.

“Really?” Dowoon asked. “You really had to do that? In front of _everyone_ in the fucking _hallway_ when I did _everything_ so no one would find _out_ —”

Sprouse’s corpse lying against a tree and her own dog sniffing the body.

“—ook _care_ of you when you were panicking and crying to fucking sleep—”

as the entirety of the lower extremities were found to be missing,

“—a _mess_ — _I_ was a mess! I didn’t know what to do, and I didn’t wanna do it—” 

the police found human male genitalia inside of the body’s mouth and throat,

“—and you would’ve _hated_ me—but I would’ve _done_ it—” 

11 PM Saturday to 3 AM Sunday

“It was _for_ you—everything was _for_ you—there wasn’t _anything_ that wasn’t _for_ you—” 

exsanguination 

“—only _you_ —”

evisceration 

“— _only_ you—”

dismemberment 

“—nothing _else_ —”

similar causes

“ _Younghyun—_ ”

Turned around and made Dowoon stop in his tracks.

“You think I don’t know that?” Younghyun said, looking him in the eye. “You think that I don’t know that you take care of me like no one else? You think that I don’t know that you think of me before anyone else? Dowoon, I _know_ that there’s no one else that you care about in the world, and it’s the same for _me—_ if you _died_ , I would’ve _killed_ myself.”

Dowoon stared at him, frozen and unmoving, and Younghyun turned away, covering his face.

“Every time I hear that someone’s dead or about to die, I think of you and the fact I wasn’t able to do anything,” he said, a lump in his throat, a river in his eyes. “I get flashbacks, and I need answers—I’m not the kind of person who stays still. But that night I was at a standstill, and I felt helpless that _you_ were helpless, and I couldn’t help you at all.”

He looked down at the newspaper in his hands and how it was crushed beneath his fingers.

“It’s not like I think reading this can bring back the dead—I don’t even think _Andrew_ , of _all_ people, deserves to be brought back from the dead—but I just need to do _something_ —I need to know _everything_ —when someone’s _dead_ , they’re _dead_ , and you can’t bring them _back_ —”

He felt Dowoon pull him for a hug, and that was when the tears fell—all the sobs, all the whimpers, his only two hands holding desperately onto him, holding desperately onto the person he’d lost so long ago.

“I know,” Dowoon said, as Younghyun cried into his shoulder. “When someone’s dead, you can’t bring them back, even if you somehow manage to.”

They stayed there standing and embracing for a few moments, with Younghyun letting out tiny sobs until the school bell finally rang, and they finally had to part.

Dowoon told him he’d meet him by his classroom at lunchtime and told him he could read the article, and he wouldn’t mind.

But Younghyun didn’t believe him. He knew he was lying because of the way he kept shifting his feet.

From one foot to the other, so subtle you wouldn’t have noticed. But as someone who had been with him for thirteen years, there was no way he wouldn’t have known it.

But class was starting, so he had to leave him, folding that newspaper in his bag. And by the time lunch arrived, it had all been forgotten. 

Younghyun lets out a sigh as he finally finishes reading the article, back aching from bending his shoulders so much. And since he’s had nothing to drink, his head is throbbing like crazy, and with an empty stomach, he’s a little on edge.

“Whoever did it, it wasn’t an animal,” he says, as Dowoon glances, his cup entirely empty. “And it’s definitely the same person who killed Matteo. The cases are too similar.”

According to the article, the facts are as follows:

_One._ Andrew was found dead in Highway Forest this Sunday at **seven in the morning**. He was propped up against a tree, sitting in a pool of his own blood. And had since been dead for **four to eight hours**. 

_Two._ The only thing left of Andrew was **a head and a torso** , as his lower extremities were found to be missing. They were cut off in an array of **fanged, bite marks** similar to a wolf or a bear. 

_Three._ Andrew’s upper extremities held no injury outside of **evisceration** , which took away his internal organs. Everything was gone with signs of those same bite marks other than the heart, which was virtually untouched.

_Four._ As the closing curtain to this horrifying incident, the **genitalia of a human male** was found to be lodged **inside Andrew’s throat**. Since his lower extremities were nowhere to be found, the police couldn’t determine the owner.

_Five_. It was reported that Andrew’s party lasted until **midnight** and that Andrew was present until the very end. Furthermore, since the venue was located **by the lakeside** of Highway Forest Lake, it wouldn’t be all that odd to find the boy in Highway Forest.

“What makes them similar?” Dowoon asks, and Younghyun takes a deep breath as the information floods him.

“Firstly, they both died by exsanguination and evisceration, though only Andrew was dismembered. They were both covered in fanged bite marks, though the locations on the body are a bit different. They were both found dead in Highway Forest, though only Andrew had a plausible reason to be there. And lastly, they’re both senior students studying at Perry Berry High, though they’re in completely different cliques.”

Younghyun turns to Dowoon, who’s looking at him carefully, playing with the straw in his cup.

“And how do you know it’s not an animal?” Dowoon asks, and Younghyun takes another breath.

“Because animals don’t gut their victims,” he says, fully confident in this. “Animals rarely even _eat_ humans, and they’d only do it if they’re on the brink of starvation—which is highly unlikely, considering that Willowsbury is _rich_ in its biodiversity. Not only that, but Andrew’s heart was virtually untouched, and considering the damage, only a human would take care to avoid it. Furthermore, only a human would think to stuff a dick inside a guy’s throat, _regardless_ of who it belonged to or where it came from.”

Younghyun finds his heart beating rapidly from all of this, fingers shaking from nervousness. 

“I don’t know how a human would be able to make those bite marks, but those bite marks are the only thing animal-like in both cases,” he concludes, biting his lip, feeling wobbly. “Everything else points to a human being.”

Dowoon stares at him for a few moments before opening his bag.

“Drink,” he says, handing him a water bottle. “You haven’t eaten anything for four hours.” 

Younghyun accepts the bottle and downs it in one go, finding that he needs more but doesn’t ask for it. 

“What I haven’t figured out is who did it, why they did it, and how they did it. And why it was _Matteo_ and _Andrew,_ of all people, they targeted,” he says, Dowoon taking his water bottle as soon as he finishes it. “But if we’re going to find that out—” 

“‘ _We’_?” Dowoon asks with a raised eyebrow, a hand on a new water bottle he probably bought beforehand. 

“... _I_ ,” Younghyun corrects, before receiving that bottle. “If _I’m_ going to find that out, I’m gonna need to investigate the connections between Matteo and Andrew.” 

Dowoon finally lets out a sigh, not even looking at Younghyun, and the latter finds it difficult to swallow the water he’s received. So, he just plays with it and turns it around in his hands, waiting for Dowoon to say something. 

“You’re not _seriously_ going to investigate this matter, are you?” he asks, finally looking at him, eyes looking tired and worn. “Because if you’re doing this for me, I’m right here.” 

“It’s not like I’m going to turn into the investigative bureau or anything.” He pauses when he sees the question in Dowoon’s eyes. “‘Investigative Bureau’ is the name I gave the guys investigating Matteo’s case—” 

“You gave them a _name_?” Dowoon says, tone turning a tad bit sharper. “Don’t tell me you’ve been speaking to them behind my back—” 

“I _haven’t_ ,” Younghyun says, wondering why this topic always hits a nerve. “I’ve only passed them by chance, and I just _happen_ to hear a few conversations—” 

“I thought I _told_ you to stop eavesdropping on them!” Dowoon almost raises his voice. “Don’t you remember what I said in the library—” 

He cuts himself short and closes his mouth shut, immediately extinguishing the fire in his throat. 

He looks down, and Younghyun does, too, mindlessly fiddling with one of his fingers. 

After a while, Dowoon speaks again.

“I don’t _like_ that you keep involving yourself in this,” he says, “because it’s something you shouldn’t be a part of. People investigating people dying—it’s dangerous business, and you’re still a kid. _I’m_ still a kid, even if I’m eighteen, a senior, and about to graduate. And we’ve been through shit, but that doesn’t mean we have to put our _selves_ in shit just to deal with it. And if you’re like me, then I’m like you, and I don’t want you to go through anything I had to. _That’s_ why I don’t want you involved in this—do you understand?”

Dowoon looks him straight in the eye. 

“I don’t want you to see things you’ll regret,” he says. “And I don’t want you to leave me. Not yet.” 

That last part makes Younghyun wonder why Dowoon would think he’d ever leave him. Why it seemed like Dowoon felt like he would, eventually. Like Younghyun’s suddenly going to _poof_ —disappear. And just… be gone. From Dowoon’s life. From everyone’s lives. Like how he disappeared from Younghyun’s, for three long year-like days.

If Younghyun had been kidnapped, would Dowoon end up like him, too? Crying, calling the police, chasing that car out the city? Wanting to scream but not having the voice to? Wanting to die but not having the life to? What would he have done?

Either way, Younghyun’s glad he doesn’t have to know. 

“Okay,” he finally says, nodding, assuring. “Okay, I won’t get involved anymore.” 

He sees Dowoon let out a breath of relief and lets him pull him for another hug—a side-hug, with an arm over his shoulder.

Younghyun glances around and sees all the whispers in the room, hearing the looks they give him, feeling the thoughts in their head.

“You don’t think anyone’s going to tell my parents about me kissing you in the hallways, do you?” he asks, eyes on the eyes on him, feeling Dowoon squeeze his shoulder, comfortingly. 

“No,” he says, sounding confident about it. “No one’s as bad as Andrew in this school. And no one’s had it for you as badly as Andrew did. No one’s gonna try anything. I promise.” 

Younghyun nods and tries to believe it. After all, Dowoon’s comfort is the same as truth. The last time it happened, someone died, making the wish come true. Like Dowoon was a candle Younghyun had wished upon. 

He turns his head and spots the cross on Dowoon’s neck. The cheap one that only cost two dollars. He could feel his cross earring dangling with the movement like it was calling out to it, wanting to be near its partner. 

They say that when you wear a cross, it’s the same as holding onto a candle, where wishing and praying are the same things. You close your eyes, say what you want, and someday, you’ll find it coming true. 

Younghyun thinks there’s some truth to it. After all, he’d been wearing a cross ever since the party. 

But he probably wouldn’t pray to one if it wasn’t attached to Dowoon’s body.

Younghyun finds himself opening his locker hours later, placing his books in with the day finally over. Dowoon’s actually already in the parking lot at the moment because his teacher walked out of the class. He’d been waiting for Younghyun for about an hour now, so Younghyun does his best to waste no more time.

But before he’s able to close his locker and lock it, he discovers something new slipped into his belongings.

It’s a piece of paper, folded in thirds, with the words “Younghyun Kang” written on the front with black ink. 

He opens it to find a letter:

Hey. 

We overheard you talking about Andrew and Matt’s case earlier during lunch. We know your best friend won’t allow you to keep investigating it, but you’ve got some bright ideas that none of us were able to think of before. Wouldn’t have expected it from you. 

We’re meeting this afternoon just after class to discuss some new leads in the investigation. Feel free to check us out in Journalism. If you decide to go, make sure Dowoon doesn’t know. 

The Investigative Bureau

“What’s that?” 

Younghyun startles and turns to see Dowoon right next to him, having just arrived with a particular gaze in his eyes. 

“It’s nothing—just a letter from an admirer,” he says, folding the paper back into its three halves. He eyes him up and down. “You texted you’d be waiting in the parking lot.” 

“I was, but I got bored, so I came here to get you,” Dowoon says, leaning on his locker. “We still up for making nachos later?” 

“Yeah, of course.” Younghyun nods, repeatedly. “Of course, we are—um...” 

He bites his lip and pockets that letter. 

“Why don’t you go ahead?” he says, watching the way Dowoon watches him with a steady eye. “There’s just something I need to do.” 

“Sure,” Dowoon says, lifting his body up from that locker. “I’ll meet you at your house.” 

They bid each other goodbye, and Younghyun watches as Dowoon leaves. Waits until he’s out of sight. 

Then, he turns around and walks to a specific direction, mind made up about everything. 

“— _telling_ you they _aren’t_ connected, I—”

Someone suddenly opens the door, and everyone turns around to see a new face not unfamiliar to them. 

He’s got a complicated expression, almost a guilty expression—but considering the letter they sent him, it’s not unreasonable. 

“Hey,” Younghyun says, voice a little breathy. “You say you got some new leads in the investigation?”

The blond nerd smiles. 

“That would be correct,” the boy says, surrounded by more than two people. “And I’m sure our newest member would love to help out on it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: A previous version of this chapter was a lot more explicit and violent :)


	8. Let Me Correct It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Younghyun drives home after making a decision._   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW: Handjob, Dom/Sub-ish (yh is still being awakened, so not much yet), uh... Licking? is that a thing, Younghyun Finds Deep Pleasure In Things That Aren't That Much If You Think About It, But Maybe He's Just That Horny

In Younghyun’s code of action, making decisions behind Dowoon’s back is more often than not out of good intent. Planning a birthday party, waiting for the right moment before announcing something, becoming popular so he wouldn’t be bullied. 

There are some exceptions to this rule, such as hiding behind a door to scare him just to get a laugh, and the fact that Younghyun still has that secret that only his ex-girlfriend of five months knows about.

Younghyun wouldn’t usually do things that make him feel guilty. He would never even think of doing anything if it felt wrong from the start.

Unfortunately, it would seem that he had broken that rule.

“I’m sure our newest member would love to help out on it,” that blond nerd said, referring to the investigation, a smug expression on his face. Younghyun remembers the look he had, that cat-got-the-canary look. Like the bird flew straight into his claws, knowing exactly the path it took.

Younghyun drives himself home, only one turn left from reaching his house. There’s a heavy feeling in his chest and an even heavier feeling in his pocket, hearing the guilt weigh on his mind, even though he knows he did nothing wrong.

_It’s alright, Younghyun,_ he tells himself. _You made the right decision. As long as Dowoon doesn’t find out about it, everything will be fine._

That trail of thought leads him back to that letter he received, to a single sentence, ten words.

If you decide to go, make sure Dowoon doesn’t know. 

He hates that they had to include that.

The car finally takes a turn and Younghyun spots that quaint little building: made of wood, three stories high, with the highest floor an attic. Stacked upon each other on an upwards slope, vertical—as most mountain houses are.

Younghyun takes in a deep breath as he parks his car outside, willing his heart to be at ease.

He tells himself to just focus on hanging out with Dowoon tonight. Eat food, have a laugh, and just—be at peace. 

He closes the car door and walks to the front porch, giving himself one last pep talk.

_You can do this, Younghyun. You can do this_ , he says. _Everything you do, you do it for him._

He reaches the front door and unlocks it with his keys, going inside—the lights are turned off. 

But Dowoon’s shoes are placed neatly by the door, so he’s sure that the house is occupied. 

“Dowoon?” he calls out, taking off his shoes and placing them by the door, locking it. “Are you hungry yet? The tortillas I made are back at your house, but I think I can still whip something up with a bag of Doritos.”

They were supposed to meet up at Dowoon’s house to make those nachos they planned on eating together, but Dowoon said he’d wait for him at Younghyun’s. He probably forgot about the ingredients. 

“Dowoon? You there?” Younghyun says, walking into the living room, wondering why the lights are off. He goes to the switch to turn them on. “We could make something else if you’re not up for it—” 

“You’re late.” 

Younghyun feels a pair of arms snake around his waist as he whips his head around to see Dowoon’s face. 

The boy stares at him with a cold gaze in his eyes, a steady case of calm and collected. 

“Dowoon! Don’t scare me like that.” Younghyun frowns, head turned in their little back hug. “I almost thought you were a murderer.” 

Dowoon shrugs, brushing the comment off. 

“Why are you home so late?” he asks, not letting go of him. “It’s been over an hour since school ended. The food’s getting cold.” 

“I got held up by Mr. Wilson. The asshole lectured me about my earr—wait, food?” 

“Yeah. You know, the things we consume to give us energy.” Younghyun can feel Dowoon’s hot breath against his ear. “They come in different food groups. Go, grow, and glow—” 

“I know what food is, Dowoon. I’m asking that you made food?” Younghyun finds himself a little surprised at this. “I thought we were going to make those nachos together.”

“We _were_ , but then you got held up at school. So, I took it upon myself to make something for you, since you’re always cooking for me.”

He leads him to the dining room, where the lights are also out. But it doesn’t matter because something else provides illumination:

A pair of small candles, their flames swaying and flickering. Beside a pair of plates and a pair of wine glasses. 

Dowoon’s voice is soft behind him.

“I know this sort of thing is usually reserved for spouses and lovers,” he says, “but I figured the bond we share is just as important.” 

Their meal is a well-cooked steak sitting in a pool of savory sauce, and there’s even a bottle of red wine and a pair of wine glasses. 

“Do you like it?” Dowoon asks, trying to see Younghyun’s reaction. “I know it’s a bit tacky, and I’m not sure if it tastes good—also I stole the wine from the neighbors—” 

Younghyun whips his head towards him, eyes holding the universe. 

“Are you kidding? I _love_ it,” he says, feeling touched that Dowoon would do something like this. _So, this is why he decided to meet up here. I’m the one with steak in the fridge._ “It’s the first time someone’s done this for me. I don’t even mind the fucking candles.” 

He’d always been a sucker for romantic gestures, though it’s between friends in this situation. He’d often get into the showy stuff for his previous girlfriends to the point where it was clear he cared more about it than they did. 

“Really?” And Younghyun nods, a grin on his face. “The decorations aren’t too much?” 

“The decorations are _everything_ —though you’re right when you say it’s a lover thing.” Younghyun turns to the set-up and finds himself holding onto Dowoon tighter. “I’ve always wanted someone to do this for me. Never expected it would be you.” 

He’s so happy that he’s forgotten all about his previous worry, the weight in his heart dissipating into a light breeze. He even finds himself leaning into Dowoon’s embrace, even though he finds it a bit weird since no one’s held his waist before. 

“Well, I’m glad you do.” And Dowoon ruffles Younghyun’s hair. “After that fight in the hallway, I wanted to make it up to you.” 

Younghyun gives him a smile and takes his hand. 

“Come on, let’s eat. I’m absolutely starving,” he says, leading Dowoon to their seats. “Today’s been so fucking hectic; it’s nice to be able to wind down.” 

Younghyun picks up the knife and fork—which were placed neatly on a piece of cloth—and starts digging in as Dowoon watches him, a small smile on his face. 

“Is it good?” he asks as stars appear in Younghyun’s eyes, hand on his cheek as he keeps his gaze on him. 

“It’s _more_ than good—it’s fucking _delicious_!” Younghyun says, pleasantly surprised. “You made it so juicy and tender and just really, really good.” 

He takes another bite and lets himself melt into the flavor. 

“I think this is the first time you’ve made something that isn’t instant noodles or pancakes,” he says. “You sure you haven’t been cooking behind my back?” 

“It took a lot of trial and error. In fact, your kitchen’s a mess.” Younghyun glances before he’s able to see something flash in Dowoon’s eyes. “You probably shouldn’t enter it. Don’t worry; I’ll be the one to clean it.” 

“No way.” Younghyun shakes his head. “You made all this food, and you have to wash up, too? I’ll do it. I’m not one to judge.”

He eats some more and spends a few minutes in Heaven before he notices Dowoon’s plate. 

“Why aren’t you eating?” he asks, before swallowing his food. “It’s really good. You should take benefit of what you made.” 

“The thing is my arms are a little worn.” And with this, Dowoon gives a small pout. “You know, after cooking so much. I don’t have the energy to feed myself.” 

Younghyun snorts, almost snorting the food out with it. 

“Are you asking me to _feed_ you?” he asks, a little incredulous as a grin takes up Dowoon’s face. “God, you’re such a baby. Fine, but only one bite.” 

He scoots a little closer and goes to slice a bit of Dowoon’s steak, bringing the fork up to his lips. 

“Come on. Open your mouth.” But Dowoon just smiles. 

“You have to say, ‘Say ahh.’” 

“Seriously?” The fork dips down, and Dowoon waves his eyebrows. “You’re not seriously going to make me treat you like a child—” 

“Food’s dripping,” Dowoon points out. “Also, don’t you feel bad that I labored for you—” 

“Here comes the airplane! Say, ‘Ahh’ —” 

Dowoon opens his mouth and receives the food, a shit-eating grin playing on his lips. Younghyun shakes his head. 

“God, I am never doing that again.” He goes over to take his fork back

But finds that it’s stuck in Dowoon’s mouth. He looks and sees that Dowoon’s bitten on it, refusing to give it back. 

“Dowoon, are you serious?” He pulls, but the fork won’t budge. “Dowoon, I might hurt you—Dowoon, give me back my _fork_ —” 

He tries and tries, but it’s like the fork’s attached to him, and Dowoon’s even laughing, still with the steak in his mouth. 

“Dowoon, I swear to God—if you don’t let go now—how are you still doing this— _just. Fucking. Move_ —” 

Younghyun takes one final pull, but finds that Dowoon finally let go, and it’s so sudden that Younghyun falls backward— 

And stops, when Dowoon catches him. 

“Caught you,” he says, hand on his waist, finger flicking his nose. “You know, you really have a nasty habit of falling off chairs.”

“Yeah, well, this time it’s your fault, so don’t blame it on me.” Younghyun ignores the blush on his face, scanning Dowoon’s. “Did you put on cosmetics?”

“Thank you for calling me hot.”

Dowoon sets him back to normal, and they finally finish their meal, with Younghyun immediately going up to stack the plates as he should. 

“I told you you don’t have to do that,” Dowoon says, taking them from him. “You’ve been doing stuff for me since we were kids. It’s nothing if I do this.” 

“And you’re sure it’s not because you’re embarrassed of what you did in the kitchen?” Younghyun crosses his arms. He hasn’t seen the damage yet, but it’s probably really bad. 

“That’s one of the reasons, yes, but there’s also something else.” Dowoon slips into the kitchen and immediately slips back out, no dishes in hand. “There’s a second part to tonight, and dishes will ruin it.” 

“A second part?” Younghyun lets him lead him by the hand. “Don’t tell me there’s still dessert.” 

“No,” Dowoon says, before letting go of him. “But I like to think it’s just as sweet.” 

A grin grows wide on Younghyun’s face when he sees what Dowoon’s about to do. Meanwhile, Dowoon just smiles as he takes the vinyl record from the dusty box to the side, this one being the only one they’ve ever used. 

“Remember how we used to play this song over and over?” he says, placing the record on the turntable. “And we’d even dance to it, like we knew how to dance?” 

“I remember you tripping over your feet every single time.” Younghyun laughs, thinking of eight-year-old Dowoon jumping up and down. He smiles as Dowoon manually places the needle. “I can’t believe you’re actually doing this. You’re not going to ask me to dance, are you?” 

“Only if you’re not a coward,” Dowoon says, offering his hand. “What do you say, best friend?” 

The song starts, and Younghyun grins, feeling nostalgia hit him. Bare feet on the carpet, arms going up and down, making use of his grandparents’ old record player, which they haven’t used for so long. 

“Well?” Dowoon asks, the offer in his hand still standing, and Younghyun laughs, accepting it. 

_Oh, fuck it._

They dance as the man sings, _Ooh, you make me live_ , letting Dowoon move him, spin him around, and make him laugh all throughout it. 

They’re so bad at dancing, it’s embarrassing, but Younghyun doesn’t care. He just lets Dowoon lead him, mirroring the boy’s smile with his own. 

“I can’t believe I’m doing this at fucking eighteen,” Younghyun laughs as Dowoon dips him like the song begets such a move. “I can’t believe _you’re_ doing this at fucking eighteen.” 

“Believe it, babe,” Dowoon says, holding both of Younghyun’s hands to dance _Whenever this world is cruel to me_. “The only ones here are you and me.” 

They dance, and they twirl, and they spin around, Dowoon leading him on, Younghyun following him around. 

A hand on his side, copying each other’s moves, smiles on both their faces, like reflections in a mirror room. 

As the song starts to end, they start slowing down, through the singer’s _You know I’ll never be lonely_. 

Younghyun finds himself paying close attention to the lyrics, feeling Dowoon hold him by the waist, somehow holding him by the heart. 

“You know, I never realized this was a love song,” he says, as they simply sway to the beat, to _You’re my best friend._ “I just read the title as a kid and thought, ‘This is a song about friends.’” 

“Really? I always knew, though,” Dowoon says, arms snaking around his waist, Younghyun’s back against his chest. “There’s a lyric that goes, _My feelings are true_. And there’s one that goes—

“ _I really love you._ ”

He says it in a whisper as he holds Younghyun tighter, hot breath against his ear, holding him so, so close. 

Younghyun feels a breath leave him as the song finally ends, leaving the room in deadly silence as Dowoon removes the needle from the record.

“But friends can still tell each other I love you, right?” Younghyun asks, turning to see Dowoon’s eyes on him. “It’s not just a lover thing.”

“Of course they can,” he says, saying it in such a quiet voice. “Friends can tell each other I love you, and friends can kiss each other at night. Friends can even dance with each other and go on dates all the time.” 

Younghyun’s heart is beating out of his chest, thumping so loudly he’s sure Dowoon can hear it. And he’s looking at him steadily with those beautiful, golden eyes, his face looking like it’s glowing, getting him so mesmerized. 

“Are we friends?” Younghyun asks, unable to speak louder than a whisper. Feeling Dowoon’s hands on his hips, his body pressed against his, so close they’re almost melting to become one person. 

“ _Best_ friends,” Dowoon says before he leans down and kisses him. 

He kisses him passionately, making Younghyun close his eyes, arms folding up to his chest, feeling Dowoon’s arms snake around his body. 

He kisses him so much, it leaves him dizzy and falling apart, eyebrows furrowed in the heat of it all, feeling his skin flare up. 

He opens his eyes just a little when Dowoon moves onto his neck, feeling his fingers under his shirt, sending shivers down his spine. 

“Do best friends do this kind of thing, too?” he asks as Dowoon leads him in a particular direction, everything in front of him a blurry haze. 

“We do it, don’t we?” Dowoon says, leading him to the couch. “If we do it, who says they can’t?” 

Younghyun lies down on the cushions as Dowoon cages him, lips on him immediately, like he can’t get enough. 

He finds moan after moan getting pulled right out of him, eyebrows folding into furrows, arms reaching for Dowoon’s neck. 

He feels Dowoon lift his shirt up and lets him make out with his chest, lifting a hand up to cover his mouth, blinded eyes seeing white. 

The room’s so foggy like there’s steam in the room, clouding the windows, clouding his eyes, making him feel nothing but pleasure coursing through his veins. 

He feels Dowoon’s fingers trail his back and suddenly cries out when they press onto that area, making him whimper, making him _plead_ , holding onto Dowoon for dear life. 

_God, why does it feel so good there?_ Younghyun whimpers, pants leaving him as Dowoon kisses his body. _Why can’t I ever think clearly when he does that?_

“Do you like it?” Dowoon asks, hot against his neck, lightly grinding against Younghyun’s hips. “Do you want more? Tell me—you want more?” 

“I do…” Younghyun whimpers, desperately needing release, pulling Dowoon closer, gasps leaving his lips. “I do, Dowoon—I want more. I _need_ more—give me more…” 

“Are you sure you want more?” Dowoon asks, removing his hands. He places them on Younghyun’s chest, and Younghyun lets him play with him there. “‘Cause there’s no turning back, baby. Once it’s done, it’s done.” 

“I don’t care about that.” He shakes his head, desperate for it. “I don’t care about it anymore.” 

Dowoon whispers. 

“Then, you better obey me.” 

He lifts a hand up and places his fingers inside Younghyun’s mouth, the boy immediately lolling his tongue out, body flaring up with heat. 

“Good boy,” Dowoon whispers, and Younghyun’s whimpers as he licks his hand. “Keep doing that, and I’ll give you a reward.”

Dowoon’s other hand goes to press against Younghyun’s crotch, and the boy moans as the pressure sends sparks flying in the sky.

His hand kneads him, he keeps moaning, and he almost chokes on the fingers inside his mouth. 

“Want you… to do more...” Younghyun says with difficulty, saliva dripping down his chin, legs propped up on either side of him. “D-Dowoon… please…” 

“Beg for it,” Dowoon orders mercilessly. 

Younghyun whines as he starts to pant harder, body straining under him, making him want it more. 

“Dowoon, please, I want it so badly,” Younghyun almost cries, voice muffled in all the wetness. “I want you to touch me. I want to feel _good_ —” 

“Why?” Dowoon murmurs, still not letting up. There’s so much saliva, it’s dripping down his wrist. “Why do you want it so badly?” 

“Because I _need_ it,” Younghyun begs, face crumpled into torment. “And I want _you_. I _want_ you, Dowoon—let me _have_ you.” 

“You want me?” Dowoon asks, hot breath against his lips. “You _want_ me, is that what you said?” 

“I do. I do, so _badly_.” Younghyun doesn’t know how Dowoon’s got him so desperate like this, all logic gone in the wind. All that’s left of him is this desire to be _touched_ , and _wanted_. To be _felt_ , and _played_ with, and _toyed_ with, and _dominated_. 

Be _controlled_ by the one person he trusts most in the world, that even it’s unprecedented, that even if it’s crazy, that even if Younghyun doesn’t know what they are anymore,

It’s _okay_ because it’s _Dowoon_ , and he wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s _okay_ because it’s _him_ , and he wouldn’t want anyone else. It doesn’t matter what the world says, it doesn’t matter what Younghyun himself thinks, that whatever they are, no matter how messed up it is, it’s okay because it’s Dowoon. 

Younghyun looks at him, tears in his eyes. 

“I wouldn’t feel this if it isn’t you,” he says, believing it wholeheartedly. “It’s only you who’s ever made me feel this way.” 

A breath leaves Dowoon’s lips, and when it comes out, it’s shaky. 

“Me, too.” 

He leans in and kisses Younghyun’s lips, the boy feeling him unzip his pants and slide that hand in, stroking him immediately.

And Younghyun discovers Heaven.

He discovers Heaven as hot as Hell should be, as he whines and cries out, holding onto Dowoon desperately. He discovers Heaven has sinners that tempt him menacingly as Dowoon steals his breath away, whimpers against his lips. And he discovers that Heaven’s got a devil in disguise as he treats him so sweetly but ruins him so badly. 

Younghyun is probably overreacting. It’s not like it’s his first time getting a handjob from someone—Heaven knows he’s gotten so many. 

But there’s something in Dowoon’s eyes that makes it _seem_ like it’s his first time, the way he stares at him, so focused like he’s memorizing the image of Younghyun’s panting face. The way he moves, the way he strokes him, making him feel like never before. 

His old girlfriends never made him feel desperate enough to cling to them. His past relationships never got him moaning so hard it felt like his voice would break. 

His exes never got him reaching for them for the sole reason of tasting their lips. No girl had ever made his heart feel free when their arms caged him. What he wanted was someone to protect him, as much as someone to protect. 

And when he comes, it’s a beautiful feeling, got him tilting his head and drawing out a moan, gasping as he reaches the clouds. 

And when he falls back down, the first thing he sees is the sun shining down on him, golden and steady. A constant source, a permanent presence, always watching over him, fire in the sky. 

Younghyun presses his lips together and blows at Dowoon’s face. 

The boy is stunned for a moment, blinking, confused. 

“Is this your way of telling me you wanna blow me?” he asks, and Younghyun lets out a laugh, pulling him down closer. 

“No,” he says, before lifting his lips to kiss him. “It’s my way of telling you you’re my wish come true.” 

He feels a smile form on his lips as he feels a smile form on Dowoon’s, the taste of it so sweet, though the flavor is a little savory. 

“You always roll your eyes at my one-liners, but here you are, giving your own,” Dowoon says, kissing him on the cheek. “You little hypocrite.” 

“I learn from the best.” Younghyun grins and pinches Dowoon’s cheek, finding his chest constricting at the sight of him. “Who do you think taught me to be so flirty?” 

“Who do you think gave _me_ an idea on how flirting goes?” 

“Who do you think even pushed me to _have_ to be flirty?” 

“Who do you think motivates me to do everything right?” 

They stare at each other for a few seconds longer than necessary, the wall clock clicking by, _tick-tock_ , _tick-tock_. 

“We don’t have to put a label to this,” Younghyun says, “do we?” 

Dowoon shakes his head. 

“As long as it’s you, who cares what it is?” 

Younghyun lets himself fall into it, not caring about it anymore. Whether to question, give it a name, or call it something he’d understand. 

He chooses to ignore it and just accept it, not bothering with all the complexities and realness of it. And like Dowoon said, as long as it was him, he didn’t need to know more. He didn’t need any more; he didn’t need anything at all. 

As long as he had him. 

Younghyun comes out of the shower about half an hour later, drying his hair with a towel and finding his room empty. 

“I should get you off, too, shouldn’t I?” he had asked as he lay down on the couch, Dowoon sitting up after zipping up Younghyun’s pants. 

“Nah, it’s fine,” he said, as Younghyun sat up, too. “You should take a bath. I’ll just clean my hand.” 

Remembering him saying that and then remembering what they just did makes Younghyun’s face burn as he walks to his closet, trying his best to shoo it away before he gets a boner again. 

He puts on new clothes and hangs his towel on his desk chair, catching sight of his cross earring sitting on the wood. 

He finds a smile spreading across his face as he puts the earring back on, always thinking back to the matching cross that hung around Dowoon’s neck. 

He’s about to leave and go downstairs to help Dowoon with the dishes, when he notices something about his desk drawer, blinking and turning back. 

_Why’s the key hanging here?_ he thinks as he goes to take it out. _It should be in the bookshelves. Only Dowoon knows where it is…_

He opens his drawer and finds his heart coming to a stop, blood running cold, body frozen, like a statue. 

Everything is here, his pens and papers. 

Everything except for that brochure the blond nerd had given to him. 

Younghyun rushes to the plastic basket kept by his bedside to place dirty clothes. 

He finds his pants—the ones he was just wearing—and searches its pockets— 

but he finds nothing. 

He falls to the floor as the world spins around him, sending him in a daze, ears ringing like a campanile. 

He had kept the letter that the investigative bureau sent him in his pocket when they invited him to join. It was why he had a heavy heart, why he had a heavy pocket. 

He puts his hands over his mouth as he repeatedly shakes his head—stands up, not wanting to believe it. Not now. Not yet. 

_“What’s that?”_

Younghyun runs to his door and misses the knob twice before he finally opens it. 

_“Sure. I’ll meet you at your house.”_

He bursts out of his room and almost trips on his way out. 

_“Why are you home so late?”_

He runs down the stairs and almost falls to the floor. 

_“I wanted to make it up to you.”_

He spots him in the living room with his back turned to him. 

_“Then, you better obey me.”_

He spots something in his pockets and reaches out to grab it. 

_“Me, too.”_

Younghyun snatches the papers away just as soon as Dowoon whips around, eyes bulging, the world crashing and burning, as he stares at the two sheets in his hands. 

The brochure on his left, and the letter on his right. Both crumpled when Younghyun had kept them neatly folded. 

Younghyun slowly trails his eyes up as he spots the worn-out shoes Dowoon’s wearing, moving on to his ripped jeans, then moving on to his black shirt. 

Then landing on the cross that still hangs on Dowoon’s neck. 

Then fixing on Dowoon’s eyes, which stare right at him, as he slowly shakes his head. 

“You didn’t come here so you could surprise me with that dinner,” Younghyun says, voice shaky as his heart thumps against his chest. “You didn’t come here so we could dance.” 

He remembers how he held him, how he spelled him into a trance. 

“You kissed me just to distract me,” he says, raising his voice as he crushes those papers. “You _played_ me, you _two-faced son of a bitch—_ ” 

“Well, what was I supposed to do, huh?” Dowoon puts his hands up, not even denying it. “Just let you go by your day when you fucking _lied_ to me—” 

“ _You stole my fucking brochure_!” Younghyun yells, throwing those papers down. “You went through my fucking things—you _came_ here, _planning_ to go through my things—” 

“Oh, like _you’re_ so innocent?” Dowoon spits at him, throwing a finger at the paper on the floor. “You didn’t need to stay at school ’cause you had something to do. ‘If you wanna join, make sure Dowoon doesn’t know’? I _knew_ you were talking to them behind my back—” 

“I _told_ you I just happened to hear their fucking conversations!” Younghyun watches as Dowoon walks away, shaking his head. “And that letter wasn’t my fault! _They_ were the ones who eavesdropped on us—” 

“And here I was, thinking I could trust you.” Dowoon isn’t listening at all. “Here I was, feeling guilty over it, like I was the one in the wrong—you know, I was _right_ to be fucking suspicious. I was _right_ to search through your locker—” 

“ _You were searching through my locker_?” 

“BECAUSE I SAW THAT THEY SLIPPED SOMETHING INSIDE!” Dowoon finally yells at him. “I couldn’t let them influence you when I’d already convinced you! I was waiting to see what you’d do—” 

“So, you were _testing_ me? Was that fucking it?” Younghyun feels his blood boil, scorching his skin. “You were _testing_ me, like I’m some kind of an _experiment_ —” 

“And I was right to do it, because you lied to me!” Dowoon’s eyes are burning with fire. “You lied to my face, you went behind my back, you joined their stupid bureau—” 

“ _DOWOON, I TURNED THEM DOWN!_ ” 

Dowoon startles as Younghyun screams at him, the fists at his sides going white, his heart melting out of his chest. 

“I turned them _down_ , I told them _no_ , and I _didn’t_ join because I _knew_ you wouldn’t like it!” 

“I’m sure our newest member would love to help out on it,” said the blond nerd, referring to the investigation. 

“Newest member?” Younghyun blinked. “No, I came here to reject the offer.”

“I lied to you about having something to do, because I knew you’d get paranoid over it.” Younghyun stares at Dowoon’s bewildered look, looking like the world is falling down on him. “You’ve been on edge all fucking week, and you’re _so_ goddamn irritable—do you really think I haven’t noticed that you’ve been hiding something?” 

_“I’m not into that anymore,”_ Dowoon said. 

_“You have nothing to worry about,”_ Dowoon said. 

_“Why are you so concerned about some other guy’s death?”_ Dowoon spat. 

_“Then, eventually they left.”_ Dowoon dismissed. 

“I’ve been patient with you all this time because I _know_ what you’d been through, but I’m still _human_ , Dowoon. I’m _human_ , and I’ve had _enough_.” 

He doesn’t dare let the tears fall, doesn’t dare show he’s crumbling. Holds himself together enough to not fall apart. 

“Just _tell_ me what you’ve been hiding, Dowoon. I’m tired of having to _avoid_ this.” Younghyun desperately reaches out to him, wanting to let him know that it’s okay. “I know there was something about that night that you haven’t told me yet. And I know that’s why you can’t trust me, so _please_ —just fucking _tell_ me.” 

He holds onto the hope that Dowoon would finally let him in. That the Dowoon he’d known for two weeks is the same Dowoon he’s known for years.

Unfortunately,

“I can’t tell you, Younghyun—I’m sorry,” Dowoon says, voice cracking as he says it. “If I do, you’ll hate me.” 

Younghyun swallows his heart. 

“I already do.” 

He pushes Dowoon away. Out, towards the door. The boy tries to reason with him, but Younghyun’s done that before. 

“Younghyun, no, don’t do this—” 

“Stay safe. Get home early.” 

“Younghyun, I’m _sorry_. I _wish_ I could tell you—” 

“It’s almost dark out. Call a taxi.” 

“Younghyun, _please_. Please _,_ don’t _leave_ me—” 

“Don’t wait for me tomorrow at school.”

“ _Younghyun, I love you._ ” 

The boy stops. Stares at the boy standing out his door. 

“I love you, too.”

Younghyun slams the door in Dowoon’s face and turns away, turning around to the clutter on the floor.

He bends down and picks up the two sheets of paper, smooths them out, so the text is readable.

He walks to the wall in the direction of the stairs, eyes not leaving that text for a second.

When he gets there, he goes and picks up the telephone and dials the number he’d memorized in his head.

Someone picks up after four rings.

“ _Hello?_ ”

“Hey. This is Younghyun. You know. Younghyun Kang.” The person on the phone gives the affirmative. “Yeah. I know I just rejected you guys like two hours ago, but I’ve decided to change my mind. 

“I wanna help you in your investigation.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of this update! Sorry that it's a bit short; I kinda lost time to finish the whole thing. Like Ch. 7-8 took MONTHS to finish, guys, and I don't even think they're written that well;;
> 
> But either way, I was able to bring this to y'all for Briwoon Week 2020, and hopefully, it was a nice read! ^_^
> 
> See you in the next update! 
> 
> P.S. If you felt weird during briwoon's little date, that is exactly what I meant to happen; the happiness felt was artificial. Hopefully, it dissipated when they Did the Thing though; that was meant to feel genuine.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are appreciated 💕
> 
> Briwoon Week: [@briwoonweek](https://twitter.com/briwoonweek)  
> [carrd](https://rqyh.carrd.co/) for updates and info!!


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